


Learning Freedom

by Elri (angelrider13)



Category: One Piece
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Ace and Luffy are abused, Ace and Luffy have 12 yr age difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Characters to be added, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Luffy is a precious baby who is precious, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Tenryuubito - Freeform, altered ages, are the biggest dicks on the planet, but you knew that, various original characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelrider13/pseuds/Elri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were slaves. One who had known freedom and lost it; one who had been born without it. Will a chance meeting give them something to live for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Selfless Child

**Author's Note:**

> No pairings as of yet; but if one develops it will probably involve Ace, will not be an AcexOC. For now, the fic will focus on Ace and Lu's sibling relationship. I’ve tweaked their ages quite a bit: Ace is 15, Luffy is 3, in this chapter at least, everyone else’s age will stay the same. This fic WILL will contain mentions of abuse, including physical, mental and sexual, nothing extremely explicit but will be heavily hinted at in some parts so if that bothers you or triggers you, please don't read this fic.

_**Prologue** _

_**The Selfless Child** _

* * *

 

When Ace came too, the first thing he registered was _pain_.

Burning, searing pain. The kind of pain he hadn’t felt in years. Not since he had eaten his Devil Fruit when he was twelve. A power that, for some reason, he could not feel anymore, could not use. He felt empty; the constant warmth of his fire no longer there to soothe him. It was agonizing; his back felt like it was on fire, skin and flesh seared down to bone. It hurt to move, hurt to breath. It was agonizing. But Ace clenched his jaw and grit his teeth, refusing to let any sound escape, refusing to let _them_ know he was in pain, refusing to give _them_ the satisfaction. He may have been caught, but he was not broken.

As the pain in his back dulled, he let his senses take over. He was lying on his stomach, the surface beneath him hard and cold, a sharp contrast to his back. Something cool was locked in place around his neck, wrists, and ankles. A collar. Shackles. And suddenly, with startling clarity, Ace realized that the burning pain in his back was a _brand_. He hadn’t just been kidnapped. He had been _sold_.

Fury coiled in his gut and rage bubbled up his throat. But, again, Ace tightly clamped his lips shut, cutting off any noise trying to make its way out. He had heard stories about this; ships with unmarked flags raiding islands and kidnapping people, pirates and civilians alike. He’d always thought it odd that there were never any marines that were reported missing. They counted as people too, so why shouldn’t be they taken as well? Ace had his answer now. And it sickened him. Marines weren’t taken because they _supported_ this disgusting practice. Even though the World Government had clear laws against it. Even though innocent people were being snatched from their beds.

Ace felt sick to his stomach.

He had been on a marine protected island.

It shouldn’t have happened.

Shouldn’t have even been a possibility.

And yet here he was.

The only consolation he had was that he had prevented them from taking anyone else. He had always figured something like this would happen to him eventually, given the blood that ran through his veins, but the others. They didn’t deserve something like this.

Ace was pulled out of his thoughts when cool air brushed over the wound on his back. His eyes snapped open of their own accord and he was met with the sight of a boy. A very young, very small boy. He was thin, startlingly so, but his face somehow still held the roundness of a child’s. He had big, brown eyes, a small scar under the left one, and a mop of black hair. He wore nothing but a pair of worn and ragged shorts, no shirt, no shoes. His wrists and ankles were free of shackles, but the collar around his neck marked him; Ace didn’t need to see his back.

This boy was a slave.

Ace’s mind rebelled furiously against the idea; this boy was so tiny, so small. He looked no older than _three_. It simply wasn’t possible. Yet all of the evidence was there.

The cool sensation rushed over his back again, slightly soothing his pain for a few seconds. Ace realized it was coming from the boy. He was kneeling by Ace, balancing himself on his hands, and carefully blowing on the fresh brand seared into his skin. Ace couldn’t understand why but he was marveled by this. This little boy, this toddler, was helping him. He could have laughed from the absurdity of it all.

His eyes flitted around the room they were in. Or rather, the cell. It was small, the floor, ceiling and three of the walls made of cold, unforgiving stone. The fourth wall was made of metal bars. Ace could see another cell across from theirs, and he suspected they were all the way down the hall.

Suddenly, his vision was obscured by another face in front of his. The boy had noticed he was awake and leaned over so that his face was on the floor right in front of Ace’s. The teen blinked at the blank expression on the child’s face before the boy’s lips pulled into a wide grin and he got up and turned. And there was the slave brand. Right in the center of his little back. Something in the teen clenched at the sight of it on such a small body. Ace followed him with his eyes as best he could before the boy disappeared from his line of sight and it hurt too much to move.

He didn’t have to wait long to see what was going on as the boy came back fairly quickly. He placed two small rolls of bread and a cup of water on the ground in front of Ace, sitting on the ground and beaming at the teen. Ace stared at the boy’s expression. It was so…happy. So _genuinely_ happy. Ace couldn’t wrap his head around it.

When Ace didn’t make any sort of move to take the food, the boy picked up one of the rolls and pressed it to Ace’s lips. The teen blinked, startled both by the action and the sudden change in the boy’s expression. He was frowning now, pushing the bread insistently against Ace’s mouth.

Slowly, Ace let his lips part. And just like that, the boy’s smile was back. He carefully pushed the bread into Ace’s mouth, a look of intense concentration on his face, brows furrowed and tongue sticking out of the corner his mouth. Ace closed his teeth around the bread and took a bite; it was dry and incredibly stale. But he knew he wasn’t going to get anything better and had to take what he could get. The bread was gone quickly and now the boy was staring at the cup, his gaze occasionally shifting to Ace’s mouth, that same look of concentration on his face.

In any other situation, Ace was sure he would be laughing and teasing this kid for wearing such an expression. He was tempted to laugh regardless. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drink the water from this angle. Mentally bracing himself, Ace pushed himself up and carefully rolled onto his side, ignoring the way his back protested.

To his surprise, the boy was right there when he was done, holding the cup to his lips. Ace had to bring his own hand up to help balance it, but together, they got the job done.

The boy beamed at him and pat his head as if to say ‘good job’ and then lay down in front of him so that they were eye to eye. Ace couldn’t help but quirk a grin at the boy’s actions. The boy’s grin grew wider at the sight of Ace’s small smile and he giggled.

“What’s your name?” he whispered, not wanting to break the oddly peaceful silence but curious about this strange boy.

The child’s grin disappeared and a look of pure wonder crossed his face. Ace was completely bewildered until a tiny hand came up and small, chubby fingers traced his lips. Ace blinked.

“Can you speak?” Ace knew he was young. Very young. That much was obvious. Painfully so. But he should at least be able to speak some words at this point. But the boy just gasped and stared at Ace’s mouth. The knot in Ace’s stomach tightened. “Can you understand me?”

The boy seemed to sense something in Ace’s tone because he looked up into the teen’s eyes, but there was no recognition, no sign of understanding.

Fury coiled in his stomach. This child shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t have to experience this. He was so innocent, and Ace could see it in those big, brown eyes. This child was pure. But something in Ace’s gut told him this child had never seen the sky. The sea. This child had never had freedom the way Ace had. And Ace wanted to strangle whoever took that away from this boy. He deserved it more than anyone. Ace didn’t know why, but something about this boy made it true.

The sound of a door opening echoed down the corridor.

The boy tore his eyes from Ace’s, rolling over and walking to the bars, peeking as best he could down the hall. The sound of footsteps drew closer and, soon enough, an elderly man with a slave collar around his neck and two men in suits came into view. They stopped at the empty cell across form theirs. The boy had started bouncing slightly in what Ace took to be excitement, but he couldn’t figure out why. Did the kid know this man?

A small giggle escaped the boy and before Ace could register what had happened, one of the men in suits had lashed out catching the boy across the face, sending him falling back. The boy didn’t make a single sound. Neither did the old man. Ace had to bite his lip to stop the cry of outrage from leaving his mouth. But he sent a glare at the man that promised death.

The suited man faltered under it, quickly turning away. Ace kept his eyes trained on the man though, even as he and his friend shoved the old man into the cell and walked back down the corridor. Only once the sound of door closing could be heard did the old man speak.

“Luffy? You alright?” he called softly.

The boy sat up, hand holding his cheek, and _smiled_. The old man just sighed and shook his head.

Ace blinked at the boy’s reaction. He wasn’t mad. Wasn’t even _scared_. What was up with this kid?

“His name is Luffy?” he called to the old man, keeping his voice as low as he could while still being heard.

The old man seemed to notice him for the first time. “Ah. Monkey D. Luffy. You the new one then?”

Ace’s eyes widened in surprise at the name, but he forced it back and sighed. “…So it seems.”

“…I’m sorry, my boy. It’s a cruel world we live in,” the old man said softly, “Makes you wonder how angels can exist.” At that, his gaze turned to Luffy. The boy was content to watch their conversation, eyes moving to whoever was speaking, even if he couldn’t understand a word that was being said.

“Why can’t he speak?” Ace asked.

The old man sighed. “Because he has never been allowed to learn,” he replied, “You should pity him. You have known freedom. Luffy has not.”

Ace felt dread pool in the pit of his stomach. “He was born a slave.”

The old man nodded. “His mother had been…acquired while she was pregnant with him. Somehow she made it through the pregnancy and managed to keep the baby alive. She gave birth to him in that cell,” he said with a slight nod in gesture, “She lived long enough to name him. Not sure why the boy was kept alive. The nobles seem to find him a source of amusement if nothing else.”

Ace looked at Luffy. The boy was staring at him. At his lips. Waiting for him to speak, for the strange noise that he could not understand but sounded so wonderful. Ace forced himself into a sitting position, leaning his burned back against the wall. The rough stone pressed against his wound, but it was almost completely erased by the numbing cold that seeped into his skin. While he tried to force the pain back, get it back to level he could manage, the old man spoke up again.

“Luffy, have you eaten?”

The boy looked at him blankly until the old man mimed eating. Luffy beamed and then pointed to Ace. The old man looked between them and Ace was confused by the wondering expression on his face.

“You truly are special, child,” the old man said. Luffy just kept smiling obliviously.

“What?” Ace asked with a raised eyebrow.

The old man shook his head. “Our normal ration is one cup of water and a single roll.”

Ace stared blankly at the man in the cell across from him. Luffy had fed him two rolls. If they were each only given one, then where…? Ace’s eyes widened as the meaning sunk in, whipping his gaze to the small child sitting by the bars of their cell. One of the rolls had already been his. But the other. The other had been Luffy’s. This boy had given him his only food.

The teen couldn’t wrap his head around it. How could a child, one who knows so very little, be so selfless?

“Luffy,” Ace choked out. The boy turned to him with a smile, it seemed he at least understood that word was his name, or at least referred to him. He held a hand out to the boy gesturing him closer. “Come here,” he whispered.

Luffy pushed himself up and toddled over to the teen, plopping down next to him with a curious expression. Ace looked down into his eyes. Eyes that starred innocently back at him. And he knew then what he was going to do. What he was going to live for.

“My name’s Ace,” he said softly, so only the boy could hear, “I know you can’t understand me, but you’ll get there eventually. I know you will. I’m going to look after you now, okay? I’ll protect you.”


	2. Whispered Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: slavery, child slavery, physical abuse, some blood (mild), rape (not explicit but heavily implied)

_**Chapter 1** _

_**Whispered Words** _

* * *

 

Ace had decided, on that very first day, that he was going to teach Luffy to speak.

He had never been around small children before, only ever seen them from a distance, but he knew that Luffy was well past the age where he should start saying words. The boy barely made a sound. It was almost as if he lived in silence, and with the fascination he looked at Ace with whenever the teen spoke, Ace didn’t think it was far from the truth.

For the most part, Ace would just talk. They would sit, huddled together in the back corner of their cell and Ace would whisper stories to the boy. He spoke about anything he could think of, home, the sea, the sky, pirates, ships, people he knew, places he wanted to see. Luffy would listen attentively, his eyes trained on Ace’s lips the entire time, wide with wonder.

But Ace knew that Luffy still didn’t understand.

So he started naming things.

He would point to something and name it, in an attempt to get Luffy to connect the word with the physical object. It was hard; there wasn’t much in their small cell that he could work with. But Ace made due. He named the walls of the cell. He named body parts. He named their food. He named them. And Luffy would watch and listen. Ace knew it was not something that would happen overnight; most kids didn’t start saying coherent words until around two years of age. And that was with constant exposure to spoken language. Ace guessed that Luffy was around three, and from what he had observed, the boy was hardly ever acknowledged let alone spoken to. So the going was slow. So very slow. But eventually, Luffy began to speak. It was nothing but gibberish, of course, just a string of sounds put together as if they were words. And each time, Ace would sit and listen to Luffy like the boy sat and listened to him, a small, encouraging smile on his face.

For some reason, Ace felt like Luffy’s smiles were wider now, truer. Almost as if it was just a motion before, but now he had something to smile for. It wasn’t until Ace was first taken from the cell to do work that he realized how true that was. Luffy had to stay in the cell. He was to young and small to be of any use. So when Ace was taken from the cell, Luffy had to stay behind. Ace remembered how Luffy’s face had crumpled when the cell door was closed and they were on opposite sides of the bars. There was so much fear and sorrow in those big, brown eyes that Ace felt his heart break. But when Ace came back, the grin that split the boy’s face was brighter than any he had ever seen. And as soon as the guards were out of sight, Luffy launched himself at Ace, wrapping arms and legs around the teen and refusing to let go.

It was a bit odd at first; Ace wasn’t used to affection. But Luffy was ready to both receive and give it and had no qualms about doing so. He took to Ace like a fish to water.

Soon, Luffy started to point to things, wanting Ace to name them, which he did. Ace found that, for whatever reason, Luffy pointed to him the most often. That Luffy’s smile was slightly brighter whenever Ace said his name. The teen quickly adapted to Luffy’s babble, once he realized that the boy’s sounds did, in fact, hold some meaning.

Ca meant cage.

Wawa meant water.

Nom meant food.

Ai meant Ace.

And so on.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

* * *

When Luffy was four, the Tenryubito fed him a Devil Fruit. For their own amusement of course.

It was the first time Luffy had been taken from their cell. It was the first time Ace truly understood the fear and sorrow in Luffy’s eyes whenever he was taken from the cell. Now it was Ace’s turn to watch and wait. And it burned him that that’s all he was able to do. Worry churned in his gut and he paced the length of the cell, unable to stay still without knowing that Luffy was safe. He had no idea how much time passed; he had no way to keep track of it. It felt like hours, days, _weeks_.

Ace couldn’t keep himself still.

If he wasn’t pacing, he was fidgeting. If he wasn’t fidgeting, he was pacing. Always one or the other. He was always moving. He _needed_ to keep moving.

Eventually, the teen heard the door at the end of the corridor creak open and his movement finally came to a stop as he sank to the ground, leaning against the back wall of the cell.

Luffy walked down the hall, escorted by a single suited guard. The boy smiled at Ace through the bars as the guard unlocked the door. The boy was shoved through it roughly, and Ace glared at the guard darkly when Luffy fell to the floor.

Ace had learned quickly that slaves were not allowed to speak or make noise of any kind. One of the many reasons Luffy couldn’t talk. But Ace didn’t need to use his voice to be defiant.

The guard locked their cell again and stiffly walked away, avoiding Ace’s piercing eyes.

As soon as he was out of sight, Luffy crawled into Ace’s lap and clung to him. The teen was shocked and worried to find the boy trembling.

“Luffy?” he asked softly, so only the boy would hear, “Luffy, what’s wrong?”

Luffy looked up at him, eyes full of fear and confusion. Ace cupped the boy’s cheeks. “Hey, hey. What’s the matter?” he asked, rubbing his thumbs across tiny cheeks. He frowned when he noticed that the texture of Luffy’s skin had changed.

Before he could ponder it too much, Luffy started babbling softly.

“Nom,” he whispered, miming eating and then reaching down and drawing a swirling pattern into Ace’s skin.

Ace felt his blood go cold. “Devil Fruit?”

Luffy looked up at him, eyes flashing in recognition. He might not be able to say words, or know their meaning, but he knew when he had heard one before. Ace grimaced, rage boiling in his stomach. He had chosen to eat his Devil Fruit. Luffy didn’t even know what they were. He had to force his anger back though. This wasn’t about him, or what was right or wrong. This was about Luffy.

“They taste really bad, huh?”

“Ba,” Luffy said with a nod of agreement, face contorted into a disgusted expression.

Ace bit back a laugh at the face the boy made. “What happened next?” he asked.

Luffy frowned then, lips pressed into a thin line. He curled his hand into a fist and lightly punched Ace in the chest.

“They hit you?” Ace hissed, unable to keep his fury in check this time. He grabbed Luffy and started checking him for injuries, his fury cooling to confusion when he didn’t find a single bruise. When he glanced at Luffy, he saw the same confusion on the boy’s face.

Luffy looked at his hands, then Ace, then his hands again. Carefully, the boy wrapped a hand around one of his fingers and pulled. Ace watched as the boy’s finger stretched. And stretched. And _stretched_. Then Luffy let his finger go and it snapped back into place.

“Rubber,” Ace whispered in shock.

Luffy looked up at him in concern. “Ba?” he asked.

Ace pushed back his shock and shook his head. “It doesn’t make you bad, Luffy,” he said, “It makes you special, okay? Special is good.”

Luffy nodded slowly. “Goo,” he said.

“That’s right,” Ace smiled at the boy in his lap, “I have a Devil Fruit too, you know.” Luffy looked up curiously, eyes wide. “Mine lets me turn into fire. I can’t use it though ‘cause of these,” he said, gesturing to the seastone bands on his wrists and ankles, “But if I could, I would get us both out of here.”

Luffy’s brow furrowed in concentration as he moved his lips, trying to say a word. “F-fi…Fie?”

“Fire?” Ace asked, eyebrow raised.

Luffy nodded with a smile.

Ace paused for a moment, contemplating how to explain fire to someone who had never seen it. “Mmm…well fire is good and bad,” he said at last, “Fire can keep you warm on cold nights and it makes light and cooks food. But it can also destroy if you’re not careful.”

Luffy frowned for a moment, looking like he was in deep thought, before beaming up at Ace.

“Ai fie goo,” he said with a bright grin.

Ace blinked, surprised by the statement, but soon found himself chuckling. “Not always,” he said, remembering a few incidents he caused when he had first eaten his fruit, “But I try.”

Luffy shook his head stubbornly. “Ai fie goo,” he said firmly, snuggling into the teen’s chest. “Wam.”

Ace smiled and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair. “If you say so.”

* * *

 

Ace was first propositioned when he turned seventeen.

A Tenryubito had taken interest in him and tried to bed him. Naturally, Ace fought back. He may be a slave now, may have been one for two years, but he was owned by no one. He would not submit. He would not lower himself to that. He was not someone’s plaything. He refused. He was the only one entitled to touch his body. And he was going to make sure it stayed that way.

He was punished.

He was beaten almost to the brink of unconsciousness and then dragged back to his cell and tossed in.

Luffy was frantic. He didn’t know what to do. He kept reaching out, trying to find a way to make everything better, to make everything okay again, but then pulled away at the last second. He was scared. What if he touched Ace and it hurt him even more? Luffy didn’t want to hurt Ace. Didn’t want to see him in pain. But he didn’t know how to fix it.

When Ace was finally coherent again, Luffy was crying tears of frustration, curled up in front of the teen, watching him anxiously. Ace managed a smile and reached out to the boy, curling his fingers around a tiny hand. Luffy spoke then. Babbling softly, telling a story like Ace did for him every day, like Ace did for him when he came back to their cell after being beaten for fun. The Tenryubito liked trying to find out what things could hurt him and what things couldn’t; that’s why Luffy didn’t wear the same seastone cuffs that Ace did. Luffy didn’t like it. It hurt. A lot. But Ace would always tell him a story to make it better. So maybe, if he made up a story for Ace, Ace would get better. He made up words, tried to repeat ones he had heard Ace say before, meaningless sounds running together to form a story in a made up language. Luffy babbled until Ace fell asleep, gently gripping his hand.

Days later, when Ace had more or less recovered, the same Tenryubito approached him again.

And again he fought back.

And it continued as such.

Ace would be propositioned, he would refuse, he would be punished, and then Luffy would tell him made up stories until he fell asleep.

The sixth time the Tenryubito approached him, however, was different. This time, when Ace fought back, he was not punished. This time, he was just sent back to his cell. There was no hitting. No kicking. No whipping. Nothing.

Ace was suspicious.

It could not be that simple. Tenryubito did not like being defied. It was not like them to let such an act go unpunished.

But Ace could do nothing except wait in his cell. Ace hated waiting.

When the door at the end of the corridor opened, Ace knew something was off. He could feel it in the air. Two guards walked down the hall, the Tenryubito that had propositioned him leading the way.

Something was wrong.

This was the guard that usually brought Luffy back to the cell. But Luffy was not walking by the guard like he usually was. Ace searched for him until his eyes landed on the small form in the guard’s arms. The Tenryubito was smirking. Ace felt his blood run cold.

The guard opened the cell door and stepped in, dropping the small boy onto the floor, though much more gently than usual. Ace didn’t have the heart to glare at him. He didn’t notice the other guard place a small bowl of clean water, a cloth, and fresh bandages just inside the bars. He didn’t see it. All he saw was the blood on Luffy’s chest. Two long gashes had been carved into his flesh, perpendicular to each other, forming a large X on his small chest.

Ace couldn’t tell which emotion was stronger: his rage or his horror.

Slowly the teen dragged his eyes up to meet those of the Noble. The Tenryubito just smirked at him and turned on his heel, leaving without a word. The guards followed after him.

When they were gone, Ace could only stare at the space they had just occupied.

“Ai…”

At the weak whisper, his attention snapped to the boy lying on the floor. Luffy’s eyes were half open, clouded over with pain. He tried to take a breath, but the action pulled at his wounds and a pitiful whimper escaped his lips.

Ace sprang into action then, finally noticing the miniscule amount of medical supplies that had been left for them. He grabbed them and carefully cleaned the boy’s wound, whispering soothingly as he bandaged the tiny body. Then he scooped Luffy up into his arms and cradled him against his chest.

“Have I ever told you about the sea?” he asked softly, holding the boy as tightly as he dared, “The sea is freedom.”

And he spoke for hours, even after Luffy had finally succumbed to the pain and exhaustion and passed out.

When the Tenryubito approached him the seventh time, Ace didn’t refuse.

He let several female slaves bathe him and dress him in silk garments and sparkling jewels that did nothing but make his stomach turn. He locked his disgust and anger away behind a cold, indifferent mask. He didn’t fight back when he was escorted to the Tenryubito’s chosen room. He let the Noble that was less than human touch him, let him taint his body. But he didn’t react. He was nothing more than a limp doll in the Noble’s arms. He muffled every sound his body tried to make, furious at his body for reacting to this creature’s touch. He ignored the slurs shouted at him. Whore. Slut. He ignored the names, let the disgustingly true words wash over him and sink into his tainted skin. He disregarded the compliments on how perfect and pretty his body was for someone who was worth less than trash. He didn’t scream when he was finally entered even though it was _agonizing_ and felt like he was being torn in two. He bit the inside of his check hard enough to draw blood and locked his jaw. His throat burned from his effort not to cry out. A whimper finally escaped him as he reached his own unwilling climax.

When it was over, Ace did as he was told and cleaned up the mess. He kept his face blank as he did so, ignoring the Tenryubito’s eyes and the way they lingered hungrily over his body. After he finished, he pulled his clothes back on and walked out of the room, ignoring the throbbing, burning pain in his lower back and the blood running down his legs. He ignored his body’s protests as the guards escorted him down the hall.

He was slightly surprised when he was led to the office of the doctor in charge of making sure the slaves remained fit enough to work. The doctor cleaned him up and applied a salve with surprisingly gentle hands to his raw entrance and torn up insides. Ace stayed silent the entire time, his blank expression only faltering when he flinched as the doctor applied the salve. He kept on his mask as the guards walked him back to his cell.

Luffy was not there.

Something he was thankful for.

Because as soon as the guards were gone, Ace’s knees gave out and he fell to the ground. He crawled into the back corner, the one farthest away from the cell door, and curled into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest. His body trembled and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t stop it. He was furious. Furious and humiliated and horrified and sad and scared. He wanted to _scream_ but kept his jaw clamped tightly shut, biting his lips and ignoring the blood that dripped down his chin. His throat constricted and he _felt_ the scream trying to force itself out, his neck burning with the effort required to keep it contained. He felt hot; his head was pounding and his body throbbed in pain.

While he could stop the screams, he had no way to stop the hot tears that poured down his cheeks. He buried his face in his knees and sobbed silently, fighting the entire time to stay quiet when all he wanted to do was yell as loud as he could. He had never wished more than he had at that moment that he was not held by seastone shackles. He wanted – _needed_ – his fire. He wanted to burn, destroy, consume. He wanted for everything to go away. He wanted to watch as the _thing_ that had tainted him screamed as his flesh melted off his bones and his skin turned to ash. He wanted to feel _alive_. He wanted to feel _warm._

Ace didn’t know how long he sat there, lost in his whirlwind of emotions. He didn’t care.

A small hand came to rest gently on his head.

Ace jolted underneath it, unable to bite back the whimper that escaped him as the sudden movement caused the pain in his lower back to flare to life again.

The single hand became two, gently prodding him. But Ace didn’t look up, didn’t uncurl. He knew who it was, it could only be one person. And Ace didn’t want Luffy to see him like this. Didn’t want Luffy to see how much pain he was in.

But Luffy was persistent and the gentle prodding became forceful nudging.

Soon enough, Luffy forced Ace’s head up. And no matter how hard he tried, Ace couldn’t make the tears stop. Luffy stared. And stared. And _stared_.

His forehead was creased with worry and his tiny thumbs tried to wipe away the tears, only for them to be replaced with more. Luffy’s brown eyes roamed Ace, trying to find the source of his pain so that he could make it better. Ace knew Luffy saw the bruises, the blood on his chin. He knew that the boy didn’t know what any of it meant. And Ace intended to keep it that way. Luffy didn’t need to know what happened today. Didn’t need to know what Ace knew was going to happen again.

Luffy just sat there, wiping Ace’s tears, trying to figure out what was wrong and how he could make it better.

Ace closed his eyes and pressed his lips together in a thin line, trying to regain control of himself. He wasn’t allowed to break down. He needed to keep everything together, needed to be strong. For Luffy. Ace took a deep, steady breath and when he finally opened his eyes again, he was surprised to find Luffy giving him a small smile.

It was cautious and unsure, the boy’s eyes still overflowing with concern and Ace couldn’t help the small, soft smile that spread across his lips in return. Luffy beamed at him then, full of so much light and joy when he had grown up without either.

The boy pulled him closer, tiny hands still on his cheeks, and looked him straight in the eyes. Luffy’s brow furrowed in concentration and his lips moved slightly, like he was muttering something under his breath. Finally, he nodded to himself, took a deep breath and very clearly said, so only he could hear,

“Ace.”

Ace stared, eyes going impossibly wide.

Luffy grinned brightly.

“Ace,” he said again, “Ace, Ace, Ace, Ace, Ace, Ace!”

The warmth that Ace had so craved suddenly flared to life in his chest. Slowly, the teen uncurled and pulled the boy to him with trembling arms, holding him tightly against his chest. Luffy wrapped his arms around Ace’s neck and nuzzled into him.

“Ace,” Luffy whispered into his skin, and he could feel the boy’s smile, “Ace. Ace goo. Ace goo. Goo. Goo-od. Good. Good. Ace good. Ace good!”

And just like that, he knew everything was worth it.

“Ace good.”

Ace buried his face in Luffy’s small shoulder and cried.


	3. Fractured Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: slavery, child slaves, rape (non-explicit)

**_~Learning Freedom~_ **

_Chapter 2_

_Fractured Hope_

* * *

 

Ace’s face was blank as he walked through the town. Or rather, was led through the town.

His hands were shackled together in front of him as they always were whenever he was out. A long chain was connected to the collar around his neck like a leash, the other end in the hand of his… _master_. Ace grimaced mentally, his blank mask never faltering. He was being led around town like he was a trophy to be shown off. He hated it. His body may have been defiled and he may have been bound and branded, but his spirit was far from broken. He wouldn’t _let_ himself break. He refused to give in like that.

Because Luffy still needed him.

And as long as Luffy needed him, he would not break.

Ace didn’t care what happened to him. At all. But if Luffy was hurt, he would take his place. Something the Nobles had seen fit to take advantage of.

He was furious at the position he was in. But he didn’t regret a single second of it if it meant Luffy was safe. He didn’t regret the sacrifices he’d had to make. He didn’t regret that his body was no longer his own. He didn’t regret letting the Tenryubito touch him however they pleased or letting the guards beat him. Because Luffy was safe and as long as Ace had breath in his body, he was going to keep it that way.

So while Ace was not fine – far from it – with being a plaything, he tolerated it.

He was given special privileges because of this as well. He was dressed in silks, though none of what he was given ever covered his back. His brand was always to be in sight. So people would _know_ what he was and who he belonged to. Most of what he wore were simple silk cloths wrapped around his waist in layers. He was also given jewelry, which he didn’t much care for. Gold and jeweled bands adorned his arms and several necklaces decorated his throat. He was still barefoot, that hadn’t changed. He was also required to bathe regularly and his hygiene was taken care of to a meticulous level, because heaven forbid if the Tenryubito dirty themselves by touching a slave. Ace didn’t really give a shit if he was clean at this point or not.

The only real benefit to being treated like a common whore was that he was given more food. Most of it went to Luffy, but he had to force himself to eat some of it so that he wouldn’t get too thin. The Nobles wouldn’t touch him if he was just skin and bones and then he would lose the extra food. That was something he couldn’t afford.

Luffy was growing.

The boy was around ten years old now, give or take a year or two. His body needed what little nutrients they were provided. Already, Ace could tell that Luffy was much smaller than he should be. His body was trying to compensate. And Ace _hated_ the fact that he had to.

Ace himself was around twenty-two now. He couldn’t be sure though. He had no way to keep track of time. It all blurred together after a while.

But Ace knew he had been stuck here for a long time. Too long. He’d tried to escape once. But he had been caught halfway through his preparations. Both he _and_ Luffy had been punished. Ace hadn’t given up, but he would not be trying again until he was absolutely sure, one hundred percent positive, that he would succeed. Luffy didn’t need any more scars.

As he was led through the streets, Ace ignored the Tenryubito. Instead, he glanced around, memorizing buildings and street names, adding them to his mental map of the town, keeping his head slightly bowed to avoid suspicion. The only thing he really enjoyed about these trips into the city were the fact that he got to see the sky. He wished he had the right words to describe it to Luffy, but he never seemed able to invoke the same feelings of freedom he felt when he saw it to the small boy. That didn’t stop him from trying though.

When the Noble holding his chain stopped, he felt it. The feeling of being watched. Ace was very familiar with that feeling. He was frequently watched by the Tenryubito, both male and female. Ace hated looking at their eyes when they watched him, so hungry and full of lust and greed. Their eyes bore holes into his body and he could always feel the heat in their eyes. But this felt different. There wasn’t any heat in this gaze; it was cool.

Curious, Ace raised his head some and scanned his surroundings discreetly.

His eyes landed on a man standing on the other side of the street. He was pressed back in the shadows of an alleyway, out of view of most everyone who wasn’t trying to find him. Not that anyone was. The civilians were too busy bowing to the Tenryubito and the Nobles themselves were too caught up in their petty lives to notice the man _standing_ in the shadows.

But Ace saw him.

He was maybe half a head taller than Ace himself and the way he carried himself was like that of a fighter. Ace recognized the tanned, sea worn skin right away. This man was a sailor. He wore a simple pair of slacks that cut off blow his knees, a pair of sandals on his feet, and a long sleeve, purple shirt. The front of his shirt was left open, revealing a tattoo of a cross with a crescent through it. His hair was blond and his expression was laid back, almost lazy. But Ace could easily see past the façade; this man was not someone to trifle with.

His eyes locked on Ace’s. They were blue, bright blue, and sparked with intelligence. The man’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at Ace’s glance before an expression of curiosity took over his features. Ace kept his face blank, giving nothing away to this stranger despite his curiosity.

He was forced to break contact when the Tenryubito holding his chain yanked on it, making him stumble forward a few steps. He resisted the urge to snarl and yank back, knowing it would only be a pointless show and nothing more, and let himself be led away without a backwards glance.

* * *

 

Marco was surprised when the slave turned to look at him.

He had gone ahead to scout and seen the Tenryubito. They made themselves kinda hard to miss. The seasoned pirate was not surprised to see the Nobles leading a handful of slaves around; he was aware of the horrors of the world, despite the government’s best effort to hide them. Or blame them on someone else. He stuck to the shadows, out of sight, so that he could observe. And not draw attention to himself when he didn’t bow. Tenryubito may hold a God-like status according to the government, but Marco was a pirate. And as such, he didn’t give a flying fuck what the government said. He refused to bow to scum like them. Because to him, the Tenryubito were _less_ than human. They, the supposed “Gods” of the world, were the lowest form of existence in it. And _nothing_ would change his mind on the matter.

No one was aware of his presence. The civilians were otherwise occupied trying not to draw attention to themselves and the Nobles were too busy in their own worlds to notice. One of the slaves, though, his body language changed.

Marco noticed it from the corner of his eye, the young man tensed slightly. Marco turned his gaze fully to him, curious. He was shirtless, the brand on his back in clear view. He was thin, no doubt from lack of food, but he wasn’t frail. No, he wasn’t frail because frail implied _weak_ , but something about him told Marco that this kid was anything but. He was dressed as a slave used for his body, garbed in silks and covered in jewels. But the slight muscle definition implied that he did some sort of manual labor as well. He was very well kept, his black hair neatly trimmed just below his chin, his skin free of any filth.

The slave’s back suddenly straightened slightly and Marco watched as he turned to look right at him. The pirate was surprised. This kid knew he was there. Interesting. Now able to see the kid’s face, Marco noticed the childish freckle spattered across his cheeks. His face was blank, completely devoid of any kind of emotion. The thing that caught Marco’s attention though, were the boy’s eyes. They were a deep brown and they shone with a fire that the pirate rarely saw on the seas these days. However this kid’s body may have been treated, his spirit was not broken. Far from it.

The moment was broken when the Noble tugged on the chain around the slave’s neck, making him stumble forward. Marco watched as fury flashed across the boy’s eyes despite his blank mask and the way he tensed, feet braced and apart, shoulders squared. For the briefest of moments, Marco thought the kid was going to yank the noble back. But the tension faded from his body, even though the fury didn’t leave his eyes, and he let himself be led forward without a backwards glance at Marco.

Very curious.

Marco wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about that boy. Something different.

As the Tenryubito moved on, the street came alive again, a sense of relief in the air.

Marco turned and retreated into the alley, walking the back streets until he reached an inn. He entered and was immediately bombarded by questions from his men. He watched with mild amusement as they all tried to be heard over each other.

“Oi! Let the man enter the building before you try to talk his ear off!”

The crowd parted sheepishly, revealing a man with a pompadour and wearing a white chief suit, a grin splitting his face. Marco rolled his eyes and stepped into the inn.

“Honestly, you lot act like a bunch of five year olds,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “You better not be giving Isabel any trouble after she let us stay at her inn.”

The woman in question chuckled from her place behind the bar. She was a thin, petite woman who was getting on in her years. Her thick, wiry, iron gray hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore a white apron over her dress. She was tough, an ex-pirate and an old acquaintance of Whitebeard’s, so she had no trouble taking care of herself. She wasn’t afraid to either. Isabel was terrifying when you were on her bad side. So it was best not to be there.

“Now, Marco,” she chided as she cleaned a glass, hazel eyes sparkling in mischief, “They just miss their Mama Bird; they don’t mean any harm.”

Marco glared, while the crew stifled snickers. Thatch, however, made no such attempts and laughed outright, slinging an arm over his indignant friend’s shoulders. Isabel joined him, her light, bell-like laughter echoing in the room.

“Ah, you boys make me miss life on the sea,” she sighed wistfully.

“You could always join us!” one of the men called, the others chorusing their agreement.

“Oh, stop that you,” she huffed, waving her cleaning rag at them, eyes gleaming, “You might just tempt me.”

“Oi! Isabel! Can you get me n’ Marco here some of your good sake?” Thatch called.

Isabel frowned, setting the glass in her hands down. “What do I look like a barmaid?” she growled.

Thatch grinned brightly. “Well since they’re all young, pretty things, yes, yes you do.”

Isabel rolled her eyes with a smirk, and slid two mugs down the bar toward the grinning man. “Keep it in your pants, you flirt.”

The crew laughed as Thatch, still grinning and chuckling merrily, led Marco to a table in the corner.

“So?” the Fourth Division Commander asked.

Marco shrugged and took a sip from his mug. “Not much to tell,” he said, “This is definitely the place though. It’s crawling with nobles.”

Thatch grimaced. “Damn Tenryubito,” he muttered, “Has anyone seen any signs of Ricky or the others?”

Marco shook his head. “Has everyone returned?”

“Kevin and Josh are still out,” Thatch replied, “Alex and Shin heard some rumors on the north side that one of the lower class nobles is hosting some sort of celebration in about a week’s time.”

“We should make our move then, use the party as a distraction,” Marco murmured thoughtfully.

Thatch hummed in agreement. “Will it be enough though?” he asked, “The party might not be big enough to hold everyone’s attention.”

Marco leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling. An image of fierce brown eyes filled his head and a slow grin came to his face.

Thatch raised an eyebrow at the look. “What are you thinking?” he asked curiously.

“Why don’t we just break all of the chains?” he asked.

Thatch’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Marco smirked, blue eyes alight. “We’re here to get our nakama back. But who are we to deny someone the right to fight for their freedom?”

* * *

 

Ace sighed internally as the guards led him down the hall. He was bored as hell. But at least no one felt the need to have sex with him today. For once. It happened so frequently, it didn’t really faze him anymore. Physically at least. Mentally, he was a mess. And he knew it. But Luffy was there to sooth him every time even though he boy still knew nothing of what happened to Ace when he left the cell. He had gotten better at storytelling, though most of them didn’t make much sense given that Luffy had no idea what half the stuff he was talking about was.

The boy had gotten much better at speaking, though it was still broken and he still stumbled over his words. Ace had taught him all he could speech wise, but now, Luffy knew enough to understand and hold a conversation with Ace. Something he marveled in. When he and Ace were alone, Luffy chattered endlessly about anything he could think of. He would ask Ace questions about everything, tell Ace about his dreams. Anything.

He had woken up once to find Luffy hovering over him, staring intently at his face with those big, brown eyes of his. At first, Ace had thought the boy had had a nightmare. But then Luffy just gazed at him calmly and asked what the word “brother” meant. Ace had mentioned the word multiple times in the story he had told Luffy the night before. Apparently, the word had struck a chord in Luffy.

So Ace explained brotherhood as best as he could to the child and when he was finished, Luffy looked up at him innocently and asked, “Ace my brother?”

Ace had blinked, completely shocked, before smiling softly at the boy and replying quietly, “If you want me to be.”

And then Luffy had grinned and curled up into Ace’s chest before falling asleep again almost instantly.

The boy continued to surprise Ace, even though they had known each other for roughly seven years now. That was most of Luffy’s life. Ace had raised him, knew him better than himself almost, yet there were still these small moments in which Luffy would do something completely baffling and unpredictable.

As Ace approached their cell, he felt something drop in his stomach.

Luffy wasn’t at the bars trying to peek through them to smile at him.

When they neared, Ace saw the boy in the shadows at the back of their cell. He was lying on his stomach, eyes closed, his back rising and falling in deep even breaths. He was asleep. While part of Ace relaxed, another, larger part, couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness.

The young man showed none of his feelings as the guards unshackled his wrists, leaving the seastone bands in place and opened the door to his cell. He stepped in before either of them tried to push him in and waited until they had left before approaching Luffy. When he was close enough to see the boy through the shadows, Ace froze, eyes going wide.

Luffy was in the same garb he was. The same garb as a slave who…

Fear clutched Ace’s heart as he kneeled by the boy, trying to look him over for injuries without waking him. It was sheer will power that kept his hands from trembling. There weren’t any bruises, of course. None of the Tenryubito had the strength to bruise the boy with the way his body was now. But he was marked in other ways. Ace saw kiss and bite marks on the exposed line of Luffy’s neck and along the boy’s shoulders.

Ace’s eyes burned and, for once, he didn’t bother trying to hold the tears back. He placed a gentle hand on Luffy’s hair, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Luffy stirred at his touch, eyes blinking open. And when they landed on Ace, Luffy _smiled_. He grinned just as wide as he always had and it made Ace’s heart _ache_ to see it. When the boy made to get up though, the smile was replaced with a look of pain and Luffy cried out softly. Ace gently pushed him back down with a firm hand on his shoulder, his other hand going to the boy’s lower back.

Luffy winced at his touch and looked up at him, eyes sad. “Hurt Ace,” he said softly.

“I know, Luffy,” Ace replied, voice threatening to break.

But Luffy shook his head, his tiny hand coming up to grip Ace’s wrist. “Hurt Ace,” he said again, tears shimmering in his eyes, “Ace hurt. Happened to Ace. Ace hurt too. They hurt Ace too. Didn’t know. Sorry couldn’t make it better. Ace hurt. Don’t like Ace hurt. Sorry. Sorry.”

Ace gave shuddering sigh. He wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and sob. Luffy had just been _raped_ and his only concern was that it had happened to Ace and he never realized. “Shhh, it’s okay, Luffy. It’s okay.” He was unable to stop the break in his voice this time. “This might hurt a bit, but I need to check your wounds, okay?”

Luffy looked up at him with eyes so full of trust that Ace just wanted to scoop him up into his arms and hold him forever so that nothing could hurt him. He put a steadying hand on the back of Luffy’s neck and slid his other under the boy’s clothes. Carefully, as gently as he was able, he curled a finger into Luffy’s entrance. That didn’t stop Luffy from flinching.

“Shhhh,” Ace whispered, massaging the back of his neck, “I know it hurts. Just relax as much as you can for me, okay?”

Luffy nodded and went completely limp under Ace’s gentle hands.

Ace knew exactly what he was looking for, having done this a number of times to himself. It was clear Luffy had been treated; there was some kind of salve and almost no blood. Ace grimaced when he felt the tears inside the boy; either the Noble had been extremely rough or Luffy had struggled like his life depended on it. It was probably some combination of both. With a sigh, Ace removed his finger and fixed the boy’s clothes.

“I’m sorry, Luffy,” he said softly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop them.”

Luffy didn’t say anything, just smiled gently up at him.

Ace lay down on his back, carefully maneuvering the small boy on top of him so that they were lying chest to chest. He brought a hand to Luffy’s lower back and began massaging it gently. Luffy whimpered slightly before sighing in relief, going limp on top of him. Ace stared blankly at the ceiling, his other hand absently coming up to cradle the boy’s head.

Of everything that had happened to him over the past seven years, this was the worst. It hit him the hardest. Harder than when this had first happened to him. Harder than when Luffy had been dropped in their cell with a giant X carved into his chest. Harder than having to look at the scar that wound had left behind every day.

Luffy was _ten_.

And already his innocence was gone.

Ace hadn’t been able to protect it.

If he had only been able to escape with Luffy before this. Then the boy would still have his innocence and he would have gained his freedom as well.

Freedom that was the sky he couldn’t describe.

Freedom that was the sea Luffy had never seen.

The thought of the sea conjured up an image of the blond sailor he’d seen that day. The man that hadn’t bowed like everyone else when the Tenryubito walked by. The man that didn’t submit.

“Have I ever told you about pirates?” he asked softly. Luffy hummed in response with a little nod, leaning into his touch. “…Have I ever told you about the Pirate King?”

At this, Luffy peered up at him in confusion. “No,” he said quietly, “What’s Pirate King?”

Ace grinned. “Not what, Luffy, _who_. The Pirate King is the man who has the most freedom in the world.”

Luffy’s eyes lit up. “Freedom?”

Ace nodded. “There’s only ever been one Pirate King and he died a while back. Which means that someone else can claim his crown,” Ace paused briefly, “Do you wanna hear the story?”

Luffy nodded frantically against his chest. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Ace laughed. “Okay, okay!” he said, still grinning widely, “There once was a man named Gol D. Roger…”


	4. Rekindled Fire

**_~Learning Freedom~_ **

_Chapter 3_

_Rekindled Fire_

* * *

 

“Is this the place, Commander?”

Marco nodded. He and several of his men were observing the comings and goings of the nobles’ celebration from a nearby roof top. Thatch had taken the rest of the crew and split them into teams, each one heading to a separate estate. Marco decided he would command the team that took care of the party. With all of the nobles in one place, it meant the Tenryubito would be present. Which meant when they executed their plan, it would be a high possibility that the Marines would be called on to deal with the disturbance. Because the Tenryubito had the Government in their back pockets and if they deemed it so, the Nobles would have high-ranking Marines swarming island in less than an hour. Marco was here to act as a buffer.

“Phili,” Marco said, “When all hell breaks loose, you’re in charge of getting everyone out, got it?”

Phili nodded. “Yes, sir. Should we engage anyone directly?”

Marco shook his head. “Not unless they engage first. This is a rescue, not a battle. We want to get in and get out as fast as possible. Stick to the shadows and don’t draw attention to yourself. Try to free as many people as you can but _make sure_ that none of them move until I give the okay.”

His men nodded and he signaled them forward, watching as they all dropped off the roof before pulling a baby den-den-mushi out of his pocket. “Thatch, did you find them?” he asked.

“I’ve got Ricky and Chris,” Thatch’s voice came through, “Kevin’s team found Amara and Kale. We’re still trying to find the others.”

“Keep looking,” Marco replied, “My team’s moving in.”

“Be careful, Marco.”

Had Marco been anyone else, he would have snorted. “They couldn’t throw a punch to save their lives.”

“True,” Thatch acknowledged, “But you know they have the Marines in their pocket, some of whom actually pose a challenge.”

Marco chuckled. “Just get out as soon as you can. And try not to blow anything up.”

“Me?” Thatch asked innocently, “I would never!”

Marco rolled his eyes and hung up, tucking the den-den-mushi back into his pocket before following after his team.

* * *

 

Marco stuck to the shadows, discretely slipping between slaves and servants and avoiding the nobles. He made sure to keep an eye on his men’s positions and their progress as they crept through the crowd. Marco had already used the keys he had nicked off of some nobles earlier that week to free several slaves. Their eyes shown with gratitude and they listened with surprising attention as Marco calmly and quietly explained what was going on. The freed slaves continued about their work as if nothing was amiss. The pirate scanned the crowds for other slaves. By his estimate, about eighty-five percent of the slaves had been freed from their shackles and collars.

He grinned slightly when a familiar figure caught his eye. The slave he had seen that day in the market place. The kid was wearing that same blank mask on his face, but his eyes still burned. He’d been left alone, standing against the wall of the ballroom without a noble anywhere near him. The chain that was linked to his collar had been secured to one of the many hooks that lined the walls. Marco grimaced mentally as he made his way over; the kid had been tied up and left as if he were nothing more than a dog.

When he was only a few feet away, the boy turned to him. Marco watched as deep brown eyes widened slightly in shock, recognition flashing across them. He grinned and held a finger to his lips as he came to stand next to the kid. The boy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but other than that, his face gave nothing away. He was wary, that much Marco could tell, but he was curious as well. This boy had been able to find him that day in the market, had seen him when no one else had. With the other slaves that Marco had approached that night, they’d all had some level of fear or despair in their eyes. The blond could tell that they had all wanted to cower away from him, but, as that was a punishable action, they didn’t. This boy though, he showed no such fear. Not towards Marco or the Tenryubito. If anything, those brown eyes held anger. At what specifically, Marco wasn’t sure. But the boy’s body language told the pirate that he would fight. His feet were braced and his eyes never looked away from Marco’s. It didn’t matter what the punishment was or who was stronger or who would benefit. He would fight.

Before he was aware what was happening, Marco had slipped the key into his slave collar and unlocked it. The kid’s blank mask shattered when he heard the click of the lock being undone and he looked up at Marco in open surprise, clearly not expecting such an action on Marco’s part. His brown eyes were wide with wonder and awe, all of which was directed at Marco. The boy’s gaze was completely open, unguarded, and the blond felt this was something not many people saw. He was seeing something rare.

The pirate smirked at him. “Don’t cause any trouble just yet,” he whispered, “We’re going to try and get everyone out, so just wait a few minutes. We’re almost ready.”

The boy’s mask was back in an instant as he pressed his lips into a thin line. His eyes were brighter now, more alive. They shined with furious determination. Marco took this as consent and turned back to the ballroom to scan the crowd again. It was almost time. By the time he’d turned around again, the boy was gone.

Marco blinked for a moment, caught off guard. Then he realized the ring of keys he’d been holding was no longer in his grip. Further inspection revealed that the knife he’d kept hidden on his person was also missing. Slowly, a sly grin crept across his features.

Yes, there was definitely something different about this boy.

* * *

 

Ace was bored as hell.

He hated being dragged to parties. He never _did_ anything at them. He wasn’t told to serve or clean or cook. Nothing. He just stood there, led around by whatever noble held his chain. He was there to be admired. Never acknowledged. Not that he really wanted to be acknowledged by these prissy, self-centered assholes. But that wasn’t the point.

Luffy had been dragged to the party as well, something that made Ace furious. Normally, he wouldn’t care; nothing happened at these stupid parties anyway. But Luffy was still healing, could barely stand. Any wrong move on his part and blood would be dripping down his legs.

They had been separated when they were being taken to prepare for the party. Ace hadn’t seen Luffy since, though he knew the boy was here.

Eventually, the Tenryubito holding Ace’s chain – he never bothered to remember any of their names; put actual effort into making sure he didn’t - had grown tired of him and cast him aside, leaving him by the wall. Ace could care less. He was away from the Noble, and while he wasn’t allowed to leave his position, not that he _could_ , being chained to the wall and all, he was free to do as he pleased.

So, partially because he had nothing better to do, but mostly because of the growing worry in his stomach, he spent his time looking for Luffy. He watched the crowd, the people coming and going, passing by him like he wasn’t even there, trying to find the small boy.

Ace wasn’t sure how long he’d been looking when he felt eyes on him. It was the same gaze as before, cool and without the sickening heat. He turned and came face to face with the man from the market. The one who hadn’t bowed. He was wearing a finely made cloak, one that looked like it was worth quite a bit of money, with the hood up to hide him from view. He walked silently and gracefully, easily slipping past people without them noticing him.

He was so surprised to see the man that Ace couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in shock. What was he doing here? There was no way he was a guest. If he was a pirate, then maybe he was here to steal some gold? But no one in their right minds would try to do anything against the Tenryubito. Besides Ace of course. To everyone else the potential punishment was too steep. But when you were like Ace, like someone who had nothing to lose but everything to gain, such things didn’t matter. This man though, Ace didn’t see that kind of desperation in him.

This man was calm, in control. He knew exactly what he was doing and who he was doing it to. When he reached Ace’s side, he grinned slyly and held a finger to his lips. Ace frowned mentally. What was he trying to do? Ace shifted slightly, ready to fight this man if he had to. He knew his chances weren’t good; this man was clearly a fighter, and he had not been living in ideal conditions. His body was weak. And he knew it. But that didn’t mean he would just give in. It wasn’t in his nature.

A sudden click caught his attention. The man’s arm was extended, hand reaching the back of his neck. Where the lock to his collar was. The constant pressure on his neck was suddenly less and the chain leash fell back against the wall.

Ace couldn’t keep his mask in place. His eyes went wide as he slowly came to the realization of what this man had just done. His eyes snapped up to the stranger’s blue ones, wonder and awe and surprise clear on his face. It was the first time in years he had looked at someone other than Luffy with an open, honest expression. And the man in front of him seemed to understand that on some level, if the acknowledgement in his eyes was anything to go by.

The man smirked slightly at his surprise. “Don’t cause any trouble just yet,” he whispered, “We’re going to try and get everyone out, so just wait a few minutes. We’re almost ready.”

Ace shut down at that, mask reforming in an instant, lips pressed into a thin line. He was grateful to this man for what he’d just done. He was. But freeing him didn’t give him the right to control him. Ace wouldn’t bow to him. Wouldn’t bow to anyone. He wasn’t going to lose one master just to gain another.

So when the man turned away, Ace nicked the keys from him and grabbed the knife he saw hidden in the man’s clothes. He’d learned quickly and pickpocketing was second nature to him now. Occasionally, when he was brought to the market be the Nobles, it was for more than being paraded around like some prize pony. The trend was that when one of his mistresses brought him out, them usually made him carry the wares they had purchased. Or took. After all, why pay when everything already belonged to you? Ace had made use of this and nicked things that he and Luffy could use as supplies when they escaped and hid them in specific locations around town.

He ducked away, crouching behind a pillar. He slid the knife into the hem of the silk wrap around his waist, and removed his collar, hooking it on his arm for later use. The collar itself could be a valuable weapon. Then he flipped through the keys on the ring, trying to find the one to the sea stone bands that locked his fire away. If it was here. He’d be able to make do without it if he had to.

The fifth key he tried, though, slid cleanly into the lock of the band on his right wrist. Ace grinned, eyes lighting up, and quickly unlocked the other wrist band and the ones on his ankles. As soon as the seastone was no longer in contact with his skin, his fire flared to life, rushing to the surface of his skin. Ace relished in it, the heat, the glow, everything. For the first time in a long time, he felt complete. Whole.

He forced himself down from his high though, reigning in control and drawing the flames back under his skin. He could immerse himself in the bright heat later. Now though, he needed to focus on escape. The man had said that they were trying to get everyone out. Meaning he needed to find Luffy. And quick.

Ace peered around the pillar, scanning the crowd. He crept silently through the shadows, sticking close to the wall. After a few minutes of searching, Ace saw the boy in the middle of the ballroom. He was wearing so many necklaces that he looked like he was drowning. They covered the giant scar on the boy’s chest though and Ace supposed that was their purpose. Luffy’s eyes were glassy and slightly unfocused. They were hazy with pain even though his face was blank. His body was tense and his knees were locked. Ace could see the fine tremor that ran through the boy. Luffy was in no condition to be moving around like this.

The Tenryubito at his side wasn’t even paying the boy any attention, not that that was really surprising. He did, however, absently reach out and smooth a hand over Luffy’s dark hair from time to time. Luffy’s face twitched every time the Noble’s hand came in contact with him. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to be as far away from there as possible. Then the Tenryubito turned to Luffy and grinned down at the boy.

Ace felt his blood go cold at the gleam in the Noble’s eyes. He recognized that look. He had been on the receiving end of it many times. It made him sick to his stomach to see it directed at Luffy. He was going to get Luffy away from here if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

 

Luffy hated this man.

He’d never felt this toward anyone before. He didn’t really like the feeling, but he couldn’t make himself feel anything else. This man had hurt him. A lot. More than he’d ever been hurt in his life. And he still hurt. His lower back was in agony and if it weren’t for the fact that he had locked his knees, he would have been down on the floor in a heap. His legs were trembling as it was, he was reaching his limit. He wouldn’t be able to walk anywhere; it was taking everything he had just to stay standing in this one spot.

Then, to his dread, the Tenryubito turned and began to walk away, his chain in his hand. Luffy stayed where he was as long as he could, but the chain was pulling him forward soon enough. He pressed his lips into a thin line, mentally bracing himself, and unlocked his knees, taking a step. Pain shot up his spine and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. It _hurt_. Ace had told him not to move. That he would heal better if he didn’t push himself. But if he didn’t start walking soon…

He was suddenly pulled forward harshly. Unable to regain his balance quick enough, he crashed to the floor, a small cry of surprise passing his lips.

“Come now, pet, get up. Time to move on.”

Luffy shuddered at the voice, unable to help himself. He pushed himself up on his hands and knees, but his body wouldn’t let him go any further. He was tugged forward again, making him fall back to the floor. He felt the Noble’s eyes on him and the insistent tugging at his neck. But his body wouldn’t listen. He could push himself up onto his elbows, but his legs wouldn’t move no matter how hard he tried.

“I said get up.”

Luffy flinched. The Tenryubito’s voice was hard now, taking on an impatient edge. Slowly, fearfully, Luffy looked up. The Noble was frowning down at him. The boy could do nothing but watch as he drew his leg back to kick him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact to come.

But instead of feeling a foot connect with his small body, he heard the Noble cry out in pain.

Luffy’s eyes snapped open in time to see the Tenryubito go flying back. Ace was standing over him, fist raised, a fierce glare on his face. The ballroom went completely still. No one moved and everyone was quiet, staring in shock and horror at what Ace had just done.

But Ace was unconcerned. That _thing_ had touched Luffy. His little brother. His little light. And he was not going to let such an act go unpunished. Ignoring the stares and the guards rushing over to check on the Tenryubito, Ace knelt down in front of Luffy.

Luffy stared up at him, eyes wide in shock. Ace had hit the Noble. Ace had stopped the Noble from hurting him. He watched as his big brother pulled a thin metal stick out and stuck it into his collar. He heard a click and suddenly the pressure on his neck was gone. Luffy watched with impossibly wide eyes as Ace removed the collar that had been on his neck for as long as he could remember. It was then that Luffy noticed Ace’s collar was also gone. So were the bands that were always on his wrists and ankles.

Ace smiled slightly at Luffy’s look of pure awe and the boy relaxed at the gentle face. The young man carefully pulled the boy into a sitting position and smoothed as hand over his hair.

“Houb darbe uob stripk mebh! (How dare you strike me!)” the Tenryubito called as two guards helped him to his feet. His face was already swelling and blood dripped from his nose and mouth.

Ace’s features hardened as he turned away from Luffy and stood. He grimaced mentally; it was a testament to how weak he’d gotten that the Noble was still conscious. The Tenryubito shook off the guards and began to stalk towards him.

“Uob! I wamb uob losb awab! No foob ou waber fob a mof! I wamb himb whibbed! (You! I want you lock away! No food or water for a month! I want him whipped!)” the Noble screamed shrilly.

Ace watched him dispassionately; face betraying none of the fury churning in his stomach. He felt his fire smoldering just underneath his skin. As the Noble opened his mouth to start yelling again, Ace pulled the stolen knife from his sash. In one fluid movement, he threw it, the blade lodging itself hilt deep into the Tenryubito’s throat.

The Noble choked off, eyes going wide as blood spilled from his lips. His eyes locked with Ace’s and the young man grinned darkly, malicious satisfaction shining in his brown eyes, before he collapsed face first onto the floor.

The silence shattered as people started screaming and several guards rushed forward. Luffy’s eyes were wide in equal parts awe and fear. He wrapped an arm around Ace’s leg, his small hand coming to rest on the older male’s knee. Ace felt Luffy lean against his leg, felt the tremors that still racked his tiny body.

They needed to get out over here. Quickly.

Ace let his fire rise to the surface of his skin. His control was shaky at best, what with having it locked away for so long, but he managed to maintain enough so that Luffy would remain unharmed. Everything else was fair game. Flames sprang to like on the floor around them, creating a barrier that the guards could not pass. Ace grinned, unhooking his collar from his arm and scooping Luffy’s off the floor. He pulled the chain links off of them, the telling tick-tock signaling that the timer had been activated. He waited a few seconds before tossing both collars straight into the center of the crowd of screaming Nobles.

Scooping Luffy up into his arms, he had his fire make a safe path out of the ballroom and bolted just as the collars went off. When he and Luffy had safely exited the ballroom, he called back half of his flames, remembering that the blond man had wanted to get everyone out, but gave the rest of them free reign to consume and destroy as they pleased.

After seven long years, it was finally time to leave.


	5. Reluctant Alliance

Marco stared in complete and utter disbelief at the scene unfolding before him.

He had seen the child. Seen the abuse the Noble put him through. He felt the anger and disgust coil in his gut at the treatment. But he didn’t pay it any special attention. The boy was just another slave, and while Marco knew he would free the boy eventually, there wasn’t anything special that stood out about him.

But then the Noble that had been standing over him was thrown across the room.

And Marco promptly changed his mind.

The kid that had taken the keys from him was standing over the child, his face twisted into a dark, menacing glare. Were Marco a lesser man, he probably would have cowered away. As it was, he was in shock. He knew that this kid had fire; but he had just _hit_ a Tenryubito hard enough to send him flying across the room. This was different then simple defiance, then refusing to break. This kid had something to live for.

The pirate watched as he kneeled down and unlocked the child’s collar. The boy’s expression was one of awe and fear, but he looked up at the older male with such trust, as if he was his entire world. And Marco saw the hard look on the kid’s face fade into something softer, saw the little boy relax. He watched as the Noble demanded punishment. He watched as the kid pulled out _his_ knife and threw it _straight into the Tenryubito’s throat_.

And then everything was chaos.

The Noble fell to the ground, no doubt dead, and the crowd started screaming. But when the guards tried to charge the kid, fire erupted from his skin and kept them away.

Hm.

So he was a Devil Fruit user. And a fire logia type at that. How fitting.

And suddenly, they were gone. The kid had taken the child and they had disappeared in the madness. Which was as good a signal as any as the slaves and Marco’s men made their move. It wasn’t long before they were free of the ballroom, making their way towards escape.

But it nagged at him, that kid.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d called out orders for his men to meet at the rondevu point and took to the sky.

He had someone to find.

* * *

 

Ace ran through the back streets of the city, Luffy clutched tightly to him. He carried a black and green striped bag, which had been stashed away for such an occasion, over his other shoulder. He felt Luffy’s hands clutching at him almost desperately, his little body shaking. But it wasn’t fear; Ace could tell that much. Luffy wasn’t scared of what was happening. He was excited.

In the back of his mind, Ace knew that this was the first time in his entire life that he had been outside. The first time he would be able to see the sky, feel the wind on his face. The first time he would be able to experience all of those things that Ace could never find the right words to describe.

Ace skidded to a stop has he reached the channel that ran through the center of the city. A quick look around showed that the area was completely deserted. Carefully, he knelt down and set Luffy on the ground before rummaging around his bag. Luffy, in the meantime, looked around with wide eyes. Everything was so different, so new. So awed was he that he startled when Ace turned back to him and began to remove the heavy jewels around his neck. Ace smiled down at him and pulled a shirt over his head.

He bit back a laugh when Luffy tugged at it curiously. It was nothing special, just a plain red t-shirt. But Luffy had never worn anything like it before. Ace was just glad he didn’t panic over the fact that his brand was covered; something they were conditioned to never let happen. He looked like he was too busy trying to figure out what the shirt _was_ to be worried; something he found both a relief and endearing.

Tugging on the red fabric, he said, “Shirt.”

Luffy blinked up at him. “Shir-it,” he repeated, fumbling over the foreign word, “Shirt.”

Smiling softly, he gently pushed Luffy onto his back. Carefully, he pulled away the silks, revealing scratched hips but thankfully there was no blood. Shifting the boy’s hips, Ace slid on underwear and shorts. Luffy didn’t make a sound and when Ace glanced at his face as he buttoned the shorts in place, he saw the awe on his little brother’s face.

Luffy was staring breathlessly at the sky, eyes impossibly wide. The wonder Ace saw in his thin face made something twist in him, but at the same time made him feel impossibly warm. Luffy would finally, _finally_ , have all that was deprived from him. He reached out and tapped the boy’s cheek. Luffy’s eyes flicked to his before going back to the sky.

“What’s it?” he asked softly, pointing up.

Ace swallowed the lump in his throat. “The sky, Luffy. It’s the sky.”

“Sky,” Luffy repeated faintly, “’s big.”

Ace chuckled. “Yes, it is.”

* * *

 

Marco grinned as he landed soundlessly on the rooftop. This kid was clever. Stashing supplies and sticking to the back streets while chaos unfolded on the main ones. Not bad. The pirate was surprised, but at the same time it was everything he expected. This kid already had everything in place; he was just the trigger that sent everything off.

Of course, there was still on bump in the kid’s plan.

“You sure you want to do that?” he called as the kid got ready to drop the heavy jewelry he and the boy had been wearing into the channel. The younger man froze; body tensing has his head whipped around to face Marco. “Those jewels might come in handy; could use them to bribe someone to get you off the island.”

The kid’s eyes narrowed and he very pointedly dropped the jewelry into the rushing water before turning to face Marco fully. Marco grinned. “I suppose you could still use those silks as a bribe,” he said thoughtfully, nodding to the discarded cloth at the younger’s feet.

The kid’s glare didn’t waver in the slightest as he kicked the silks into the water as well.

Marco’s grin widened. “Well now how do you plan on leaving?” he asked as he jumped down, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “You don’t have a boat and staying here is sure to get you killed.”

He said nothing, shifting slightly to put a little more distance between them and dropping into a defensive stance. His body language was cautious, but also curious. Marco stayed where he was, making sure to keep himself relaxed and as non-threatening as possible. Before anything could be said though, a strangled noise drew their attention.

It was the boy. He wore regular street clothes now, though they looked far bigger on him than they should have. He was struggling to get up but couldn’t seem to get his legs to cooperate. Marco hadn’t even blinked and the kid was between them, his glare becoming something darker and more feral. The pirate put his hands up in a placating gesture and to a step back.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said calmly, “Either of you.”

The kid’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but some of the darkness on his face ebbed away.

“You need a way off of the island right?” Marco continued, “I can help with that.”

The kid blinked at him before slowly glancing at the boy kneeling by his feet. The boy looked back up at him, eyes wide and trusting. Marco could see the debate in the kid’s eyes before he turned back to face him and meeting his eyes. After a long moment, the kid nodded.

Marco grinned. “Alright then. We’ve got a boat to catch.”

* * *

 

Marco led the way thorough the city, the two former slaves following behind. The city was in full revolt. Newly freed slaves were fleeing, mixing in with the terrified citizens and slipping away unnoticed. The marines had already started arriving, which made his job a little harder, but from the looks of things, no big guns had shown up yet. Marco didn’t plan on waiting around for them.

“Hey! You there!”

Well, so much for that.

Marco sighed as a small troop of marines cut them off. There were no ranked officers among them, not even a challenge. But he saw the kid tense out of the corner of his eye. He shifted the child in his arms, freeing one hand, which immediately caught fire. The orange flames licked up his skin, engulfing his entire arm up to his shoulder and part of his chest, but the fire steered clear of the small boy in his arms. For his part, the boy showed no fear in the face of the orange heat, just honest curiosity and trust, the level of which continued to throw Marco. Given their situation, he didn’t expect such loyalty and trust from either of them, but yet here they were.

Before the kid could do anything that could make their situation worse, Marco threw an arm out in front of him, blocking his path.

“Gentlemen,” he said, calmly addressing the marines that were currently looking at them down the barrels of their guns, “How can we help you?”

“By turning yourselves in!” the one in the front barked, “You three are under arrest!”

Marco’s eyebrow rose. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline. We have a schedule to keep. You know how it is.”

The marine in front opened his mouth, most likely to repeat his useless order, when a loud booming voice cut him off.

“Bwhahahahahahahah! If you boys think you can stop that pirate with those guns, boys, I’m going to have to amp up your training!”

The marines paled slightly before standing at attention. Next to him, Marco saw the kid’s fire suddenly extinguish, his eyes widening slightly before his blank mask returned.

“You lot need more survival training before you can take someone of his strength,” boomed the new arrival.

Inwardly, Marco cringed. He really did not have time for this. Still, he couldn’t exactly just walk away now, not with the large man grinning down at them.

“Well, well, well,” Marco drawled, “If it isn’t Garp the Fist.”


	6. Escape

Marco grimaced mentally. He didn’t have time for this. Garp was ridiculously strong, not to mention stubborn. He’s encountered the man enough times to know. Any other time, he’d be fine going toe to toe with him for a bit. But now he had two glaring weaknesses that he had to cover for. And while the kid may be stubborn and probably wouldn’t go down without a fight, he’d be more of a hindrance than an asset. There’s no telling what kind of condition his body was in, but Marco didn’t need to be a doctor to know that it wasn’t good.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, brat,” Garp said with a grin as he crossed his arms.

“That should be my line,” Marco drawled.

Garp threw his head back and laughed for a moment before turning to his men. “Why don’t you lot go do something useful, while I take care of this,” he said.

“But sir – ” one of the marines protested.

“Ah!”Garp held up a hand, “You would just get in the way,” he said bluntly, “And I’d really rather not fill out the paperwork that would result if you died. Bwhahahahaha!”

“Y-yes, sir!” the marines stuttered as they turned and ran off towards the center of town.

Marco raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected. Garp wasn’t known for being so…considerate. He stared at the marine, trying to figure out just what was going through his head. Garp stared right on back, for a moment at least. As soon as the other marines were out of earshot, the vice-admiral turned to the kid.

“So this is where you ended up, Ace,” he said. And he suddenly looked so, so tired.

Beside him, Marco felt the kid tense and a quick glance revealed that he was glaring at the marine in front of them, something dark and painful in his eyes.

“I would apologize,” Garp said, voice unusually soft and serious, “But I don’t really think you’ll accept it given the circumstances.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “If I’d known, I would have stopped them. I hope you can believe that.”

Marco glanced at the kid – at Ace.

His eyes were dark and furious and he held the boy in his arms as if he was the only thing keeping him in the present. Marco figured he probably was. For his part, the boy just looked confused, but he held on to Ace tightly and showed no signs of letting go.

Inevitably, Garp’s eyes fell on the boy. “And who’s this?” he asked, “Last time I checked, you didn’t have the patience for children.”

The war in Ace’s brown eyes was easy to see. But eventually he spoke.

“Luffy,” he said softly. So softly, that if Marco and Garp hadn’t been listening, they would have missed it.

To Marco, the name didn’t mean much of anything other than the fact that he had something to call the boy now. But to Garp, it clearly meant something. He had gone very, very still and his eyes had widened as a look of realization crossed his face.

“Luffy, you say? What about his mother?” Garp asked, voice slightly hoarse.

Ace’s eyes softened and shook his head. A look of grief crossed Garp’s face. For a long moment, the four of them stood in silence. Eventually, Garp sighed, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes. He straightened and began to walk towards them. Marco tensed, ready for an attack he wasn’t sure would come. Garp was unpredictable like that. But given that he seemed to know the two he had picked up…

Garp stopped before them, reaching out and clasping Ace’s shoulder. Ace flinched at the touch and Garp’s expression faltered slightly at that, but he didn’t let go and Ace didn’t pull away. Then he reached down and ruffled Luffy’s hair, smiling when the boy looked up at him with open curiosity.

“Well I don’t know what you boys are standing around for, but I was under the impression you were trying to escape,” Garp suddenly boomed.

Luffy jumped slightly and nestled closer to Ace, while the older boy slowly began to relax.

Marco raised an eyebrow as Garp suddenly turned to him and pointed a finger in his face.

“You better make sure that my grandsons get out of here, Phoenix,” Garp growled, “Or I’m coming after your hide.”

Marco blinked at the finger in his face, slowly taking in the vice-admiral’s words. He forced himself not to react outwardly. Inwardly, though, he was stunned. These two were the grandsons of a vice-admiral. And not just any vice-admiral, they were the grandsons of _Garp the Fist_. How the hell did they end up here?

“I was planning to,” Marco said calmly, “Until someone decided to interrupt.”

Garp grinned, but it was wild and dangerous. “Well let’s just make sure there aren’t any more of those, shall we?” Marco rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’m trusting you to look after my boys. So get out of here before I get you out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marco drawled, already walking away from the marine but keeping a careful eye on his two charges.

Ace looked up at Garp with a torn expression on his face, looking vulnerable for the first time since Marco had met him.

Garp sighed. “Go,” he said softly, nodding in Marco’s direction.

Ace lingered a second longer before following after the Phoenix.

* * *

 

Ace followed after the blond man that his grandfather had called ‘Phoenix’. He knew for a fact that this man was a pirate and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that it was strange that Garp would _trust_ him. Because Garp had always tried to drill into him that pirates were scum and you could never turn your back on them. But here he was, telling this pirate to get him and Luffy out of here. Ace hadn’t really expected to see Garp ever again and, as a result, he wasn’t really sure how to react to seeing the man again. He knew that in some strange way and for some odd reason that Garp loved him. He never really understood why or what that meant. But for Garp, maybe it meant stooping as low as to trust a pirate.

He wasn’t sure.

The only love he’s ever really understood was Luffy’s. It was unconditional, from that very first second in their cell. Maybe that was why it had been so easy for Ace to return it whole-heartedly.  He’s not really sure how Luffy saw him then, back when he was the little boy who knew nothing of the world outside his cage but knew more of the horrors of the world than most grown men and still managed to smile. And Ace could tell that if given the chance, Luffy would give the same love to Garp.

Who apparently knew Luffy’s name without knowing the boy himself.

Ace didn’t intend to hide Luffy’s identity from his grandfather, but he didn’t know how the old man would react if he spoke his whole name aloud. Turned out that it didn’t matter. Garp must have heard the names Luffy’s mother planned on using before he was actually born. He could see the grief on Garp’s face when he told him that the boy’s mother was dead. He was still amazed by it; Luffy’s mother managed to keep him alive in that hell. He’d never met the woman, but he was eternally grateful to her. And, in a way, she reminded him of his own mother, who died for him just like she died for Luffy.

He’s torn from his musings by Luffy’s small voice in his ear.

“Ship?” he asked.

And Ace looked up to see the ship that the Phoenix had led them to. He felt a long forgotten excitement fill his stomach as he nodded ever so slightly to Luffy. The younger boy was practically vibrating in his arms though outwardly he showed no real change. Mentally, Ace smiled at his excitement.

“Yo, Marco!”

Ace’s head snapped up and his hold on Luffy tightened. He spotted a man with a pompadour hair style and what looked like a white chief outfit waltzing over to them as they climbed aboard, hand raised in greeting.

The blond pirate next to Ace sighed. “Thatch,” he said.

“Where’d you run off to?” Thatch asked as he came to a stop in front of them, “Phili said you just up and left.”

Marco gave and easy shrug. “I had to pick someone up,” he replied with a gesture over his shoulder.

Ace stiffened as Thatch’s eyes came to rest on them. He felt Marco glancing at them as well. He tried to take some comfort in that, but it was hard. Marco may have freed them, but Ace still didn’t trust him. He wasn’t sure he knew how to anymore.

“And who’s this?” Thatch asked.

“Ace,” Marco said when it became clear that Ace was not going to say anything, “The kid he’s got is Luffy.”

“Ace and Luffy, huh?” Thatch mused, pinning them both under a long, piercing stare, a slow grin spreading across his face, “It’s not like you to take interest in outsiders, Marco. But in this case…I can see why you did it.”

Marco just smirked slightly before turning to face the crew. “Alright, we’re all back so let’s get the hell out of here!”

“Aye!”

Ace glanced around as the crew ran about to take care of their designated jobs. Partially out of habit and partially because he didn’t trust anyone on this ship, he placed himself against the cabin wall so that no one was at his back, allowing him to keep an eye on everyone. There were some amongst the crew that he recognized; they had been slaves as well. Only briefly though. They had arrived roughly three weeks ago, but Ace hardly considered that amount of time significant. Not when he had been there for seven years and Luffy, all ten years of his short life. He noticed that they had varying reactions; some of them were worn down while others hardly had a scratch. One thing they all had in common though was the way they held themselves, the way they interacted with the crew.  And Ace suddenly realized that they were so familiar with each other because they were _part_ of the crew. The realization left him stunned.

Because it meant that they had been captured and _someone had come after them_.

Ace wasn’t familiar with that kind of loyalty. He didn’t understand it. But it made something inside him ache. He felt Luffy shift in his arms and saw him trying to look at everything at the same time, eyes wide. With a small smile, he carded his fingers through Luffy’s hair, making the boy look up at him and give him a wide smile. The smile made the ache inside him lessen; he still had his little brother, no matter what happened.

“Commanders!” Ace looked up to see a man hanging out of the crow’s nest shouting down at them. “We’ve got three marine ships tailing our ass!”

Ace felt cold wash up his spine.

If the marines caught them, he knew what would happen. He would be killed. And Luffy…Luffy would either be killed or _sent back_. That was not acceptable.

He didn’t hear Marco and Thatch calling orders, didn’t listen to them making a plan of attack. Instead, he carefully set Luffy down, smiling reassuringly when the boy looked up at him confused. Then he turned and walked to the rail, climbing up on top of it. He felt eyes on his back, but he paid them no mind, glaring at the three marine ships that were slowly gaining on them. He felt heat press against his skin, begging to be released.

He wasn’t going to let them take Luffy back. He wasn’t going to let them touch him.

He felt his fire rise to the surface of his skin, only vaguely recalling how to control it. After all, he wasn’t really in the mood to try. For so long, he’d wanted to let his fire out so it could burn and consume and destroy. And now there was no sea stone holding him back. There was nothing to stop him, no threat of punishment for him or Luffy.

Narrowing his eyes, he drew back his fist, feeling his fire gather in his hand. He’d only ever practiced this move before and it had been years since he’d actually used his Devil Fruit. But he couldn’t afford to fail. He heard people calling out to him, telling him to stop, asking what he was doing. But he ignored them. What they wanted didn’t matter. Because if he failed, it was Luffy who was at risk, not them. And he was not willing to put Luffy at risk. Not again. Not ever again.

So he threw his fist forward and finally, _finally_ , released his fire.

And his fire sang.

It rushed forward across the open water and crashed into the marine ships with no remorse. It burned and consumed, catching the sails and splintering wood. Hulls cracked under the heat and ropes burned to ash. Even with the distance, Ace could hear the marines screaming, even over the joyful laughter of his fire. And he didn’t care. He _relished_ in their screams, in the sight of his fire burning higher and brighter as is destroyed everything in its path. For the briefest of moments, he felt alive again. He could finally _feel_ after so long. These were the people that were supposed to protect him from that hell, that were supposed to protect _Luffy_ from that hell. And they had failed. Not only that, but they had _let it happen_. So Ace didn’t feel a single drop of remorse for releasing hell on them. Especially since his version was far more merciful.

Finally tearing his eyes away from the fire, Ace turned around to find the crew staring at him in stunned silence. He stared right back, expression indifferent but eyes dark and challenging. His eyes landed on Marco and he was surprised to find no judgment in the man’s gaze. The blond simply dipped his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement.

Ace didn’t let his confusion show on his face. Marco’s eyes were different from the others. The others’ eyes all looked at him with something: awe, fear, joy, surprise. Marco’s were blank, considering.  Almost like he understood. But Ace pushed that thought away because he knew that the older man didn’t understand, no one on the ship did. Not even Luffy.

And he was going to keep it that way.

Because no one needed to know.

* * *

 

Luffy stared in awe at the light that came from Ace.

He’d seen it twice before now and he was still stunned by it. It was warm and bright, just like Ace had always described it. But this was the first time he saw the dark part of it; the part that Ace had always said could hurt people. He heard screams as Ace’s fire hit the other boats. It wasn’t a new sound to him. He’d heard it all his life. But the others around him didn’t seem to like it that much. Luffy couldn’t really understand why. This sound was normal, it happened all the time. So why were they upset?

Ace turned around and Luffy saw the look on his face. Ace was upset too. But not for the same reasons as the others. He didn’t understand why Ace was upset, but he wanted to fix it. So when Ace walked back to him, Luffy lifted his arms, holding his hands out to his big brother.

Ace complied with his wordless request and scooped him up into his arms. Luffy wrapped his arms around Ace’s neck and nuzzled his cheek.

And then, so quiet only Ace could hear, he whispered, “Ace’s fire good.”

He felt Ace’s arms tense around him and his body go rigid. Luffy stayed still, holding his brother and soaking in his warmth, waiting. Ace was always like this. So Luffy waited like he always did. And, sure enough, Ace slowly began to relax, leaning his head against Luffy’s.

“If you say so,” Ace whispered back.

Luffy pressed a smile into the older male’s neck and he felt Ace tighten his arms around him in response. He felt Ace begin to move, but was content to stay where he was. Ace was safe. Ace was warm. Ace was what made him happy. He doesn’t really remember what it was like before Ace. Doesn’t really want to. He only remembers small fragments. And they are not happy.  It was always dark and cold and empty. Ace made him light and warm and full. He wanted to stay with Ace.

He felt Ace tug lightly at his hair and he looked up in question. Ace smiled ever so slightly, his eyes soft, and nodded to something behind him. Luffy blinked and turned around in Ace’s arms.

His eyes widened as his breath left his lungs. There was so much _blue_. It was like the sky, but underneath it. It danced and it sang in a way that the sky did not. It was vast and endless and it looked like it was trying to reach the sky but could never quite make it. It left him breathless. His hands clutched at Ace in an attempt to ground himself and he was unable to tear his eyes away.

“…What’s it?” he asked softly, his voice lost to the wind, words blown away as soon as they left his lips.

But Ace seemed to know what he meant. Luffy could feel him smile into his hair.

“Sea,” Ace whispered.

And Luffy suddenly understood why Ace loved it like he did, spoke about it the way he did. Why he always seemed to have such a hard time talking about it. Luffy didn’t know as many words as Ace; he didn’t have any way to describe what he was seeing. He didn’t think he ever would.

“Sea,” he repeated, breathless with wonder.

“That’s right,” Ace said softly, “That’s the sea. And do you remember what the sea is?”

Luffy grinned, wide and happy, eyes alight. “Freedom.”


	7. The Scars We Bear

A hush fell over the crew as Ace torched the incoming marine ships. Marco tilted his head slightly to the side, contemplative. Ace seemed transfixed by what he had just done, but there wasn’t a single line of regret in his body language. Turning slightly, Marco glanced at Luffy.

The boy hadn’t moved from where Ace had placed him and he watched as the flames grew higher and the marines’ screams began to die away with a level of comprehension that he shouldn’t have. Though, if he thought about it, Marco realized that this wasn’t really anything out of the norm for him. This boy had to have been made a slave young; it was possible he didn’t even remember what it was to be free.

Looking back at Ace, Marco watched as the younger man seemed to force himself to turn away. And when he saw Ace’s eyes, he wasn’t surprised. There was no remorse or regret. And he stood there _daring_ them to say what he did was wrong. Marco absently wondered if the kid realized that since they were pirates, Ace’s actions would be celebrated rather than feared. That wasn’t to say it wasn’t brutal. Because it was. But the Phoenix knew that Ace would see it as mercy. If what he had seen back in the ballroom was any indication, Ace had been hardened by circumstance. And not in any way that many others before him had.

Most everyone else would adapt to the treatment, the abuse. That was easy. But Ace had hardened himself against people. While most would have fled the second they were free of their chains, Ace lashed out. Ace _killed_. And he didn’t care. Because human life didn’t matter anymore. It was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. All that mattered in Ace’s world was survival.

So when Ace’s eyes met his, he nodded in acknowledgement.

Ace’s scars were deep, deeper than most men that were three times his age. He was so young and had already seen firsthand the darkest depths of the world.

“Well that was quite the show,” Thatch said as Ace ignored all of them and walked back to Luffy.

The boy lifted his arms, asking without words to be picked up. Ace complied and carried the boy over to the other side of the ship, away from the rest of the crew.

“So, why did you pick that kid up?” Thatch asked softly, tone unusually serious.

Marco crossed his arms over his chest as he contemplated his answer. It wasn’t really something he could put into words. There was just something about Ace that caught his attention.

After a long moment, he answered, “His eyes.”

Thatch nodded absently before his usual humor returned. “Wow, Marco, I know you swing both ways but – ”

Marco cuffed him upside the head before he could even finish.

“At least I know the rumors are true now.”

The two commanders turned to see Ricky standing next to them, watching the two former slaves. Ricky was a little worse for wear, sporting bandages on his arms and neck. He looked tired, but determined to see his men home.

“What rumors?” Thatch asked curiously.

Ricky shrugged, wincing slightly. “Apparently slaves gossip,” he said, “Ace has a reputation for being rebellious. But he almost always followed the rules while doing it. His eyes scared the crap out of the guards. You could always hear them muttering about the ‘Eyes of the Demon’ or something like that.”

Thatch nudged Marco in the side. “His eyes, huh?” he teased with a smirk.

Marco just rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he said, tone bored, “Did you ever talk to them?”

Ricky shook his head. “Ace and Luffy never talk to anyone but each other,” he replied.

“What, not ever?” Thatch asked.

“Nope. Rumor has it that Luffy can’t talk at all; no one’s ever heard his voice. He’s never even screamed, not that anyone could hear anyway.”

“But he’s just a kid!” Thatch protested.

Ricky shrugged again, shallowly this time so as not to pull at his wounds. “Luffy’s…strange,” he said, pointing and the commanders turned to see the boy smiling wide and free as he looked out at the sea with wonder, “He’s always been able to smile even though he was practically raised in hell. The others called him ‘The Angel’ because he always seemed so carefree despite his situation.”

Marco let his gaze wander up, away from Luffy’s breathless smile, to rest on Ace’s face. The kid’s eyes were soft and there was a barely-there, shadow of a smile on his face.

“And Ace is his guard,” Marco murmured under his breath.

* * *

 

Luffy didn’t know how long he sat there in Ace arms watching the sea. He felt like he could have stayed there forever. He had finally seen the sea. And he liked it. Liked the way it moved and smelled and sang. He didn’t want to look away, scared that if he did it would disappear.

What he didn’t expect was for the waves to part and a ship to emerge from the depths.

His mouth fell open and his eyes widened as he pressed himself back into Ace’s chest. He felt Ace back away from the rail, body tense. This ship was big, much bigger than the one they were on. He was so focused on the huge ship he didn’t notice Marco approaching until he was already beside them.

“Keep calm,” the blond said softly, “They’re with us, they aren’t an enemy.”

Ace relaxed slightly and Luffy turned in his arms so that he could see the others. Thatch had come up to stand by Marco, followed by some men that Luffy had seen in cells before. Maybe Marco freed them too? They were all grinning and waving their arms and screaming. But he didn’t understand why. They didn’t sound hurt or upset; they sounded happy. Why would they be screaming if they were happy?

Luffy didn’t understand.

There was a lot he didn’t understand. He knew now why Ace had a hard time talking to him sometimes; there were just so many things in the world and not nearly enough words to describe them. It was all very confusing. Everything was so different outside his cage.

This new ship pulled close to theirs and several long ropes were thrown down. Luffy’s never seen ropes like these before. There were two long parts with many shorter parts between them connecting them. Luffy tilted his head to the side; how was anyone supposed to tie anything with such an odd rope? His eyes widened as some of the men jumped over the rail and grabbed onto the ropes, placing their feet on the shorter parts and pulling themselves up to the deck of the bigger ship.

“Come on,” Marco said, pointing towards the ship and the strange rope, startling Luffy, “You guys too.”

The boy felt the tension in Ace’s body as they followed Marco. Ace was coiled tight, ready to spring at any moment. Luffy gripped him tightly as Ace climbed onto the rope and started climbing up. Even though it hurt, Luffy wrapped his legs around his brother and his hands clung to Ace’s shoulders. The older boy kept a calming hand on his back, holding him in place as he pulled himself up and over the rail. Marco followed after them, climbing on board and then gesturing for them to follow him.

Ace did so, though Luffy could tell that he was not happy about it. And Luffy knew why. Ace didn’t really like people. He was very closed off, and Luffy had noticed that his older brother only showed his true self to him. He couldn’t fault Ace because he did the same thing; new people were scary. Especially right now, when his world was suddenly so big and bright and he didn’t know anything in it except Ace. So he kept close to his brother, but kept his eyes on everything else. Because he knew Ace already. Everything else was new, not just the people.

And Luffy wanted to _know_.

He wanted to know who Marco was and why he helped them and what the mark on his chest meant. He wanted to know if the sky and the sea ever touched or if they just stretched on forever, always reaching out, but never quite closing the distance between them. He wanted to know what the strange rope they had climbed up was called.

He just wanted to know.

* * *

 

Ace kept his guard up as he followed Marco across the deck of the ship.

This ship was _huge_. The biggest that Ace had ever seen. And the crew was just as large. There were people everywhere, running this way and that, greeting each other like old friends or long lost family. It made Ace feel out of place. He had forgotten what it was like to hold such relationships and even before his capture, he had never been on the receiving end of such open affection. Oddly enough, it wasn’t really until he’d met Luffy that he was treated like he mattered. Or at least, treated like he mattered without having to worry about alternative motives.

So he wasn’t really sure how to deal with all of these people. Because none of them could be trusted.

His grip on Luffy tightened unconsciously.

“You don’t need to be so tense,” Marco murmured next to him. Ace glared at him defiantly. Much to his irritation, Marco only shrugged and gave him a small smirk. “Have it your way then.”

The blond suddenly came to a stop. “Oi, Oyaji! We’re back.”

There was a loud rumbling chuckle and Ace turned forward to see a giant of a man sitting on an equally large chair. He had a captain’s jacket thrown over his shoulders and was hooked up to various pieces of medical equipment. If Ace had been a normal person, he might have backed away in shock at the size of the man. Or maybe he would feel pity. The man was clearly old and the medical equipment gave the impression of a serious illness. But Ace was not a normal person. The man was old yes, but he was strong. Ace could see it in his eyes. The air around him was heavier, denser. It reeked of power. But it was also gentle in a way that threw Ace off. People with power didn’t feel like that. People with power were dark and cold and greedy. But no matter how hard he tried, Ace couldn’t find a trace of that darkness in this man. Still, he knew better than to let his guard down. This man was not someone to trifle with. He was stronger than Marco and that made him wary because Marco had freed him so _easily_. If he could do that, this old man could just as easily put them back in their shackles.

“Welcome home, son,” the giant man said in a deep, rumbling voice, “I see you’ve retrieved your siblings.”

A man that Ace vaguely recognized from the cells but didn’t know by name walked forward with a grin. “It’s good to be back, Oyaji,” he said, “Sorry to cause so much trouble.”

‘Oyaji’ hummed. “Just glad that you and the others are back safe, son,” he paused, raising an eyebrow, “You are all back?”

The man nodded. “Some of us are a little worse for wear, but all of us are still in one piece.”

“Good to hear!” the old man boomed, shaking the very air, “Now,” he said, turning his attention towards Ace and Luffy, “Who do we have here?”

Ace felt Luffy press closer to him and his tiny fingers dug painfully into his shoulders. Ace kept his face blank, though his eyes were fiery as he stared straight back at the man, unflinchingly defiant.

“This is Ace and Luffy,” Marco supplied, “They helped us escape.”

“Is that so?” Oyaji hummed thoughtfully.

“Marco wants to keep them!” Thatch piped in cheerfully.

Ace went completely ridged. He didn’t register the teasing tone in Thatch’s voice nor did he understand it. He only heard _keep them_. He and Luffy were back to being nothing more than pets. Luffy started trembling in his arms. It was only something one would notice if they cared to look; after all, showing fear could get you in trouble and Luffy had always been good at putting on a smile to hide everything inside. But Ace saw the way his eyes widened in fear and the way his lips parted in a soundless gasp. He felt his fire press against his skin begging for release. He wasn’t going back. Luffy wasn’t going back. He would rather _die_ than –

“Shut up, Thatch,” Marco said coldly.

His tone startled Ace out of his rage. The blond’s voice was hard and unyielding, holding an authority that had previously been absent. His blue eyes blazed and Ace realized that the man before him was angry, though he couldn’t really tell where that anger was directed.

Thatch flinched at the tone of voice, clearly startled before his eyes wandered over Ace and Luffy. He blinked before paling and stuttering out, “I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Enough,” Oyaji cut in, “Marco, take them down to Selma and have her look them over. I don’t want anyone getting sick on my ship.”

Marco nodded. “Yes, Oyaji,” he said, glancing at Ace.

Ace looked back at him, dark eyes filled with equal parts anger and fear.  Marco nodded his head in the direction of a door that Ace knew would probably lead them below deck. He hesitated. He knew Marco couldn’t be trusted, especially after what Thatch had said. But could he really afford to stay on deck with the others? Marco stepped closer and Ace forced himself not to back away though he felt Luffy press closer to him.

“You have nothing to fear from us, Ace,” Marco said, standing directly in front of him but making no move to touch him or force him to move, “I swear on our flag that I won’t let anyone harm you or Luffy.”

Unintentionally, Ace’s eyes moved to the flag waving at the top of the main mast of the ship. A skull and crossbones similar to the mark displayed on Marco’s chest. A pirate flag was a pirate’s life. It was a pledge. One that he never had the chance to make but knew more than enough about. Slowly, he turned back to Marco. The older man met his eyes unflinchingly, eyes solemn and serious. For a long moment, Ace just held his gaze.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he gave short nod.

Marco nodded in return and led him below deck. Ace could feel eyes following them but he paid them no mind. The door closing blocked their gazes anyway. They walked in silence, Ace keeping his gaze on the blond in front of him. He couldn’t understand Marco. And that bothered him because Marco seemed to understand him.

“Thatch didn’t mean what he said,” Marco said softly, breaking the silence, looking at Ace over his shoulder.

Ace narrowed his eyes, glaring.

Marco rolled his shoulders in a shrug and turned forward again. “Believe what you want to, Ace. We aren’t here to fight you. But we can’t help you if you won’t let us.”

Ace fought the growl that was building up in the back of his throat. Small fingers brushed his jaw and he looked down into Luffy’s worried eyes. His anger left him in a rush as he brushed a hand reassuringly across the small boy’s back. He needed to think of Luffy. He couldn’t let his anger get the better of him, couldn’t let his freedom go to his head. He needed to be careful around these people.

Marco pulled open a door and stepped in, gesturing Ace to follow.

The room was lined with beds and smelled sterile. Several women were moving back and forth between the beds, tending to injured men that had been on the other ship with them.

“Oi, Selma!” Marco called into the busy room.

“The hell you want, Marco?” A short woman yelled over the din, walking towards them, “I’m busy!”

“Oyaji wants you to take a look at these two,” Marco said, unfazed by the woman’s apparent annoyance.

Selma frowned, arms crossed. “A couple of strangers? How the hell’d they get here? And one of em’s still a brat!”

“They’re both brats,” Marco drawled, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Ace shot him a glare which he ignored.

Selma snorted. “Yeah, well, everyone’s a brat to you except Oyaji.”

“That’s because everyone except Oyaji annoys me,” Marco shot back without missing a beat.

The woman sighed in exasperation. “Men,” she rolled her eyes, “Alright, then. Let’s get you two looked after,” she said, reaching out to place a hand on Ace arm to guide him towards a bed.

Ace’s reaction was instant. He jerked away and a low snarl passed his lips. Selma stared at him, wide eyed, hand still raised. She didn’t look scared, but he had definitely startled her.

“Selma,” Marco called.

The woman turned to him and the two shared a look, silent words passing between them.

Ace mentally cursed, clutching Luffy tightly. He had reacted out of instinct. Luffy dug his fingers into Ace’s skin, knowing exactly what Ace’s actions meant. Had he been back in his cage, he’d know what to expect. A beating at least, or maybe a whipping. It all depended on his master’s mood. Here, he had no idea what they would do. Without realizing it, he’d begun to back away.

But then Marco was there, hand raised to his shoulder, not touching him, but stopping his retreat.

“Ace,” he said calmly, breaking through Ace’s slowly building panic, “It’s fine.”

Ace blinked, startled, eyes falling to Marco’s hand hovering at his shoulder in an almost touch.

“I apologize, Ace,” Selma said calmly, causing Ace to turn to her, “I didn’t mean to startle you. Why don’t you just follow me?” she asked, walking towards one of the empty beds.

After a moment of hesitation, Ace followed after her, eyes flickering between her and Marco, looking for any sign of anger at his outburst. Luffy remained tense in his arms, his eyes dark as he clutched at the older male. As much as they wanted to believe there wouldn’t be any punishment, it had been engrained in them that there was _always_ punishment. And if it didn’t come immediately, it would come later.

Selma had him sit on the bed as she rummaged around some nearby drawers of equipment while Marco drew the curtain around the bed closed to give them some semblance of privacy. Ace settled Luffy into his lap as Selma came back with various tools and a clipboard.

“Alright,” Selma said, facing him, “I’m going to give you both a standard checkup. We need to know the exact condition of your bodies so that we can start your healing process. Okay?”

Ace blinked and fought to keep the confusion off of his face. Why was she explaining what she was going to do?

“I’m going to check your eyes, nose, mouth, and ears first, alright?” Selma continued, unaware of Ace’s confusion. She then paused in front of him and looked him straight in the eye. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

Ace was completely baffled. She was asking permission from _him_? Little Luffy looked just as confused.

“You are allowed to say no if something makes you uncomfortable, Ace,” Marco said from where he was leaning against the wall watching them, “Same for you, Luffy.” The boy startled slightly at the direct address and turned to face Marco. “If you don’t like something, you can tell Selma to stop.”

“And I will,” Selma said firmly, “I won’t do anything that you aren’t comfortable with. We aren’t them, kid, and we never will be.”

Ace stared at her for a long moment. Logically speaking, he knew that he had the right to refuse anything he didn’t want. But after so long of having his own wishes brushed aside…he didn’t really know how to deal with it. Slowly, Ace nodded.

Selma stepped forward and began to examine him, her touch firm and sure, but gentle. Luffy watch on curiously, having never had any real experience with a doctor before. The only one he had ever seen only treated wounds to make sure they could still work. Luckily, neither Ace nor Luffy ever fell ill because that doctor would not have treated them for illness.

Selma pulled back and jotted down some notes. “Can you stand up?” she asked, “Just put Luffy on the bed.” At Ace’s hard glare and Luffy’s suddenly fearful eyes, she continued, “I’m not going to separate you, I just need to take your measurements.”

Ace looked down at Luffy. The boy looked back with those trusting eyes. The older sighed mentally, this was harder than he thought it would be. He put his little brother down on the bed. Selma had him step up on a scale to measure his weight and then measured his height, humming slightly under her breath as she wrote everything down.

“Would you be okay removing your clothes?” Selma asked.

Ace froze.

He was _not_ going back to that. Not ever. He wasn’t going to be a play thing for anyone. But Selma’s eyes were steady and without heat.

“You don’t have to, Ace,” Marco said softly, cutting through his thoughts.

Ace glanced at him before looking back at Selma. Slowly, watching her eyes carefully, he began to strip. Selma’s didn’t wander or linger and they remained cool. A quick look showed that Marco’s eyes had slipped shut so that he could not see anything. It was strange; they were acting like they weren’t interested in his body. Not _that_ way at least. It was…odd.

“Is it alright if I touch you?” Selma asked again, unfazed by his state of undress, continuing on just as she had before.

He gave a jerky nod and Selma stepped closer to continue her examination. Her touch remained sure and gentle. There was no heat and her hands never lingered. He tensed when she went around to his back; she could see his brand now. She would know that he was less than human. Would her touch change?

But her hand just ran down his spine and felt his ribs, completely ignoring the mark. He twitched when her touch fell on the scarred skin, but it didn’t linger longer than any of her other touches and the feel of her hands on his skin didn’t change. Cautiously, Ace glanced over his shoulder at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she placed a hand on each of his shoulder blades, fingers feeling along the grooves and ridges of muscle and bone. She hummed softly before removing her hands and writing something down, a frown tugging at her lips. She sighed and ran a hand down his back. This touch was different. It wasn’t what he was expecting though. Rather than the lust he was waiting for, it was…sad.

“How the hell are you still standing, kid?” she whispered, glancing up at him.

Ace didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to acknowledge how heavy he felt. The adrenalin had long since worn off, leaving him standing through strength of will. He wasn’t going to tell her that it was getting harder to stay standing, harder to keep his eyes open. He wasn’t going to tell her that his vision was starting to gray at the edges. He wasn’t going to tell her that he just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep.

She sighed and shook her head, walking back around to his front. “You’re something else, kid,” she said, pulling on some gloves. She placed a hand on his hip and looked up into his eyes. “Is it alright if I touch you down here?”

Ace went rigid for all of five seconds before hiding everything behind his mask.

To his surprise, Selma reached up and poked his cheek. “You need to stop doing that kid,” she said, “I need you to work with me, not hide.”

Ace glared at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said with a dull glare of her own, looking decidedly unimpressed, “And don’t act like that’s not what you’re doing. Now,” she gave his hip a slight squeeze, “Are you comfortable with this or not? You can say no and I will listen to you.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and gave her short, slow nod, keeping his eyes on hers.

“If you want me to stop at any time, just say the word and I will,” Selma said, dropping down, her hands cupping his thighs.

Ace kept his eyes on her hands as she touched him. Where heat and lust and rough had been before there was now gentle and soft. Selma did not express any interest with her touch or her eyes. Hadn’t the entire time even though he was standing before her in naught but his skin. She kept glancing up at him, her eyes asking if every touch was okay as she moved between his legs. He tried not to show his apprehension; Selma was the first person he was _letting_ touch him. But she was also the first person to give him a _choice_.

He flinched involuntarily when her gloved fingers reached his backside. Selma paused and looked up at him.

“Ace? You okay with this?” she asked.

He took a shaky breath and nodded.

Selma reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “You can squeeze all you want, or just push me away,” she said calmly, “Relax, I just want to feel. That’s all, nothing else.”

Ace dug his fingers into her shoulders briefly before relaxing with practiced ease. Selma placed a hand on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze as she started to move her other hand. Ace focused on the hand on his knee and soon enough, Selma was pulling away from him and standing up, removing her gloves.

“Done,” she said, grabbing her clipboard and jotting down some more notes, “You can go ahead and put your clothes back on.”

Ace did as he was told feeling oddly relieved. Selma had kept her word. He sank down on the bed next to Luffy, trying not to look relieved at being able to sit. Luffy placed a hand on his and looked up at him worriedly and Ace knew that the small boy could tell he was tired. But he was going to stay awake as long as he needed to; he smiled with his eyes and ran a hand through Luffy’s dark hair. He glanced over his shoulder and met Marco’s calm eyes. The blond tilted his head to the side question and raised an eyebrow. Ace glared at him before turning away. He heard Marco chuckle softly.

“Alright,” Selma said looking up from her clipboard, “That’s about it, for you Ace. Just one question: how old are you?”

Ace blinked, head tilted to the side ever so slightly. He _thought_ he was twenty two. He was pretty sure at least. He’d know for sure if he knew the date. But after what he was guessing was seven years of being locked away it was kind of hard to keep track of such things when you were more focused on living until tomorrow.

Face blank, Ace extended a hand toward Selma. She stared at it for a moment, confused, before realization crossed her eyes and she handed him the clipboard and the pen. Luffy leaned into him to get a look at it and Ace saw the confusion and curiosity swimming in his eyes. His lips twitched slightly in a suppressed smile; maybe he could start teaching Luffy to read and write now. He wrote down a date on the paper and handed it back to Selma.

She glanced at it. “Date of birth?” she asked and Ace nodded, “Then you’re twenty two, kid.”

Huh. So he had managed to keep track of time after all.

“Right,” Selma said, shuffling the papers on her clipboard around, “Now it’s Luffy’s turn.” Luffy looked up at his name, looking equal parts curious and nervous. “It’s the same as with Ace, alright? If you don’t like anything, just say so and I’ll stop, okay?”

Luffy glanced at Ace, who smiled ever so slightly in reassurance, before turning back to Selma and nodding.

* * *

 

Luffy sat very still as Selma’s hands felt his face.

Her touch was soft and that confused him. Wasn’t she supposed to be pulling at his skin to see how far it stretched? Or hitting him to see if it would hurt? He stared at her with blank eyes and every so often she would glance up at him and give him a small smile. He didn’t understand. No one had ever acted like this around him except Ace. But Ace was Ace and this person was a stranger.

Selma gently coaxed him into opening his mouth and his fingers clenched tightly around the fabric underneath him. He didn’t want some nasty liquid shoved down his throat again. He didn’t want to be forced to sleep or be sick or whatever else they had in mind. But to his surprise, Selma just looked inside his lips and poked and prodded him a little with her tools and then let him shut his mouth. He started up at her, trying not to let the hitch in his breath be heard. He felt a familiar, warm hand rest on his back and he looked up into Ace’s reassuring eyes. He relaxed some. Ace was here. Ace wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

“Alright, Luffy, I’m going to measure your height and weight now,” Selma said with a small smile on her face.

Luffy wasn’t really sure what that meant, but he saw the way Ace’s lips turned down ever so slightly. At first he didn’t really know what was wrong but then he remembered that when Selma said that to Ace, he had stood up. Luffy would have to stand up. He felt fear begin to churn in his stomach; he could still feel the pain in his back and knew that he wouldn’t be able to stand. There was no way his legs would hold his weight. But he couldn’t admit to such a weakness he would be punished. He shuddered, eyes squeezed shut as memories of his last punishment flashed through his mind.

“About that,” Marco suddenly spoke up, “Something’s wrong with his legs, they won’t hold his weight.”

Selma’s brow furrowed. “His legs?” she mumbled before saying, “Alright. You can just sit on the scale then and I’ll take a look at your legs, okay?”

Luffy nodded slightly, but his brow was furrowed ever so slightly in confusion. His legs weren’t what hurt, he knew what was wrong with him because Ace had explained it to him. But why would she care that he hurt? Was she going to hurt him more? Or was she just curious about what caused him pain?

Selma reached out for him before hesitating. “Do you want me to carry you or would you be more comfortable if Ace did it?” she asked, glancing briefly at his brother.

Luffy turned and held his arms out to Ace without hesitation. Ace’s lips twitched ever so slightly, letting Luffy in on his secret smile. His brother’s arms wrapped around him and hefted him up as he stood. He felt Ace’s body falter slightly before it locked in place. Luffy looked up with wide eyes and pressed his fingers to Ace jaw. Ace turned and smiled into his hand reassuringly before placing him down on a hard, flat surface. Ace had stood on it earlier, but he didn’t really know what it was for. Selma fiddled with it before humming softly and making strange lines on the flat board in her hand with a stick.

“I guess we can measure your height lying down since you can’t stand,” Selma said as Ace carried him back to the soft cushion. He liked the soft cushion, it was comfortable and made him sleepy and he felt his eyes start to droop and Ace laid him out flat. Selma took a thin, flat rope-like thing and held it against him before scribbling something down with her stick.

“Is it alright if I take your shorts and underwear off, Luffy?” she asked.

Luffy just blinked at her for a moment before nodding. He was sleepy; it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. But he wasn’t allowed to sleep yet. He didn’t have permission.

Selma gently striped him down, her brow furrowing as she carefully pushed his legs apart. He twitched as he felt pain lace up his spine as the movement and felt Ace’s hand tangle in his hair to anchor him. He felt slender fingers trace over muscles and joints, carefully prodding. It was strange. This was how Ace touched him when he was looking for injuries – though Ace’s hands were always warm; Selma’s were a little cold.

The woman’s voice pulled him out of his wandering thoughts. “Luffy, can you roll over for me?”

Half asleep, he complied, rolling onto his stomach. He didn’t realize his mistake until he felt Selma’s hands on his thighs again, pushing them apart making that sharp pain shoot up his spine again. He sucked in a silent breath, eyes blown wide as all thoughts of sleep fled his mind and his fingers curled into the cloth beneath him in a knuckle white grip. He felt fingers pressing into his thighs, but they were no longer cool and slender and calloused. They were rough and sharp and they burned when they pressed into his skin. He felt them travel up and his breath began to come in short gasps and his eyes stung as blinding terror pooled in his stomach. The fingers were suddenly pushing into him, stretching and tearing and _burning_ and there was so much pain and he just wanted everything to stop because it hurt and he felt like he was being ripped in two but his voice was lodged in his throat as the hands pulled and pushed and tried to bruise and hurt and it all just stopstopstopstopstop _STOP_ –

“Luffy!” Selma’s panicked voice pierced through his terrified haze, but he barely registered it. He just wanted the hands to go away, to stop touching him, to stop pulling at him, to stop _existing_.  “Luffy, you need to calm down. Whatever you’re seeing, _it’s not real_. It isn’t happening. I promise that no one is hurting you.”

She was lying. It hurt. It hurt _so much_.

Suddenly, there was warmth on his back and he felt familiar lips brush against his ear before a voice that made him want to breakdown and cry whispered to him, “Luffy. Luffy, it’s okay. You’re alright. I need you to breath with me, Lu.”

Ace.

Ace was safe.

Ace never lied.

He said that it was okay.

Luffy took a shaky breath and held it for a moment before releasing. He blinked the haze from his eyes and there was Ace, eyes just as warm as they’d always been. Luffy relaxed under his hand, reaching out to touch that familiar face, to feel Ace skin against his own. Ace was real. Ace was safe. He was safe.

Everything was fine.

He felt his eyelids droop and fought to keep them open. He couldn’t sleep yet. Not yet. If he fell asleep without permission, he’d get in trouble. But then Ace carded a gentle hand through his hair and gave him a small smile and Luffy couldn’t help himself. His eyes closed and his hearing faded out as his body grew heavy.

But that was okay.

Because Ace was here. And Ace would keep him safe. Ace always kept him safe.

So he let go and surrendered himself to sleep.


	8. Lingering on the Pain

Marco watched as Ace lurched forward when Luffy started hyperventilating, glaring darkly at Selma.

“He’s having a panic attack,” Selma announced as she uselessly tried to calm the boy, “Luffy! Luffy, you need to calm down. Whatever you’re seeing, _it’s not real_. It isn’t happening. I promise that no one is hurting you.”

The words didn’t reach the boy. His little body was tense, muscles locked tight with tension, eyes wide and unseeing. Calmly, Ace placed a hand on Luffy’s back. The boy sucked in a sharp breath and stilled. Marco watched as Ace leaned over Luffy’s small form and murmured something into the boy’s ear. He caught the boy’s name and the word ‘alright’ but that was about it. It had the desired effect though; Luffy went still, all of the tension draining out of his body. His eyes slid shut and his breathing calmed. He was asleep.

Ace didn’t relax though. He looked up at them warily, body curled protectively over Luffy’s.

“Ace,”Semla said calmly, “Luffy just had a panic attack. I’m not entirely sure what happened, but something I did must have triggered it. Reminded him of something bad that happened. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Ace watched her for a long moment, eye narrowed before pulling back slightly.

“I’m going to finish his exam,” Selma continued, “He’ll be fine since he’s asleep. I’m almost done and then I’ll need you to answer a few questions and then you can sleep.”

Marco watched as confusion blossomed in Ace’s brown eyes. He glanced at Luffy and then back at Selma before nodding slowly, though he looked like he didn’t really understand what was going on. Ace kept a careful eye on Selma as she worked and when she paused, her face becoming a mask of horror before becoming blank again. Ace froze.

She looked up at both of them with barely concealed rage. “Please tell me someone killed the bastard that owned this kid.”

Marco gave a short nod. “Ace did.”

Selma turned to Ace. He stared back defiantly, and looked ready to fight over the point of how right or wrong it was when Selma firmly said, “Good.”

Ace blinked, almost looking perplexed and Marco had to suppress a chuckle. This kid really didn’t understand that they had no love for the Nobles. It’s hard to believe _anyone_ actually had genuine love for them besides themselves. Which makes it all the more ridiculous that they still have so much power because without the Marines backing them they have no might, no force behind them. But Marco didn’t put much faith in that happening anytime soon; people had long since lost the ability to think for themselves.

Selma quickly and efficiently finished Luffy’s exams and asked Ace the appropriate questions, letting the kid write down the answers since he didn’t seem inclined to talk.

“Done,” Selma announced as she took her clipboard back from Ace, “Now, I want you to rest – Ah!” she exclaimed, halting Ace’s protests, “Don’t think I can’t see the way your eyes are going hazy. You’re dead on your feet, kid. Take a page from your little friend’s book and go to sleep; we’ll worry about the other stuff later.”

Ace’s eye flicked between the two of them, then to the curtain, then back to them. Marco took that as his cue.

“No one will bother you, Ace,” he said patiently, “It’s safe for you to rest here.”

Still, Ace said nothing. But he did lay down, body curling protectively around Luffy. His eyes remained open though, staring at them unflinchingly. Untrusting.

It wasn’t surprising.

So Marco just took Selma’s elbow and guided her through the curtains surrounding the bed, leaving the now free kids to rest.

* * *

 

They stood in one of the many meeting rooms on the ship, the Captain and all of his commanders as they listened to Selma give her report on the condition of their returned nakama. It was bad. Still, given whose care they were in for an extended period of time, it could have been worse. So much worse.

Marco felt like he was able to breathe for the first time in weeks. Maybe Thatch was right, he really did worry too much.

“And what of the two brats?” Whitebeard asked.

Selma grimaced. “If ours are bad, they’re worse,” she said bluntly, “Given their condition, I’m surprised they weren’t dragged on board unconscious.”

Izo raised an eyebrow. “Then what does it mean that they weren’t?”

“That they are ridiculously stubborn,” Selma said as she began flipping through her charts, “Both of them are severely malnourished; they are very underweight and have muscle atrophy. In Luffy’s case, his development has been seriously hindered. He’s no where near the recommended height and weight brackets for his estimated age.”

“How old is he?” Thatch asked, brow furrowed.

“Ace guesses about ten, but even he isn’t completely sure,” Selma replied.

Haruta’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!” she exclaimed, “He doesn’t look older than six! Seven if we’re pushing it!”

Selma’s lips pressed together in a thin line and while she wasn’t showing much emotion outwardly, Marco knew that motion meant she was seething on the inside. Their head doctor sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Look, the two of them have been slaves for _years_ ,” Selma said, “They are seriously messed up from that, both physically and mentally. To be honest, I’m surprised either one of them is still breathing.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Rakuyo asked.

Jozu grunted. “These are the Tenryubito, of course it’s that bad.”

“Selma,” Whitebeard called, stopping the murmurs that Marco didn’t doubt would have escalated into an argument.

Selma sighed. “Right,” she said as she flipped though some of her papers, “Luffy’s malnourishment will take time to fix, and even then it’s entirely likely that he will never be the correct size for his age. Ace’s growth has been stunted as well, though not to the same degree. From what I’ve managed to coax out of Ace, he was already a teenager by the time he was sold. While not ideal, the development the body goes though during the teens is not as critical as the development during the first five years of life.”

“Are you saying that the kid was a slave at age five?” Namur asked, stunned.

Selma nodded. “In all likelihood, Luffy was probably made a slave much younger than that if his scars are anything to go by.”

“Can you tell how long the scars have been there?” Marco asked.

“Some of them,” Selma replied, “There are some that could have been gotten doing any simple chore, but Ace’s torso is covered in whip lashes if you look close enough. They’re faint and old and, surprisingly enough, they received proper treatment so they weren’t too obvious unless you knew to look for them. I’d guess maybe five to seven years for some of them.”

The commanders grimaced at the thought. Seven years. That was a long time to be in the hands of the Tenryubito.

“Luffy has several scars as well,” Selma continued, “The one just below his eye is eight years old _at least_ and the one on his chest I would guess to be about five or six.”

Marco pressed his lips into a thin line. He’d seen that scar. He wasn’t as good as Selma, but he could tell that scar had been there for a long time. It was huge, taking up most of the small boy’s torso, the skin red and shiny and damaged. Though he hadn’t shown it and would only admit it to a select few, seeing such a mark on such a young child had disturbed him. And he’d seen a lot in his life.

“Thatch, I’d like to talk to you and Joseph about a diet for the two of them,” Selma said, handing over a chart to the Fourth Division Commander, “Here’s the results of the blood tests. We’re going to need something vitamin rich and preferably find a way to incorporate some protein sooner rather than later to counteract the atrophy.”

Thatch’s eyes skimmed over the paper in his hand and he let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he said, tone both horrified and awed, rubbing the back of his neck, “We should probably start them off with some broth, maybe some bread, just to see what they can handle,” he murmured half to himself, half to Selma, a look of concentration on his face.

“Their diet is going to have to be monitored for a long time,” Selma informed him, “Probably for years after this. And even that won’t correct all of the damage done. Ace has a better chance, but Luffy is so young that I doubt he will ever be the correct size for his age.”

“And what would you recommend?” Whitebeard asked, voice grim.

Selma sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Normally, I’d say dump them at the next island and let them sort themselves out,” she said, frowning, “But…” she shrugged helplessly, turning troubled eyes to Marco.

He took that has his cue to speak. “But that probably won’t work with these two,” Marco said, “Luffy knows nothing outside of the world he’s just escaped and Ace can’t trust anyone enough to let them help.”

“Surely he trusts you, Marco,” Kingdew spoke, brow furrowed, “You freed him.”

Marco shook his head. “He doesn’t,” he said simply, “Ace is smart. Observant. He knows that if I was strong enough to break him out, I’m strong enough to put him back in. That’s the only reason he’s listened to anything I’ve said.”

“But we wouldn’t do that,” Haruta said, looking sick, “I wouldn’t wish such a fate on anyone, even my enemies.”

There were murmurs of agreement around the room, but Marco stood firm.

“Ace doesn’t know that,” he said, “He has no reason to trust anything we say or do.”

“This shouldn’t surprise anyone,” Selma said, speaking up again, “These two have been stuck in hell for _years_. Why should they trust the word of a stranger just because he has the key to their cage?”

No one had a good answer.

Whitebeard broke the heavy silence. “For now they shall remain here,” he announced, “We will work to repair the damage done to them as best we can. If they feel the desire to leave, we will let them.”

Selma looked startled. “But Oyaji, that damage will take years to correct. Are you really suggesting that –”

“They need to make the choice for themselves,” Whitebeard interrupted softly, a gentle reprimand in his tone, “They have to learn to make their own choices. Deciding such things for them will only hurt them more.”

Marco crossed his arms. “We’re going to have to teach them how to live.”

* * *

 

When Luffy woke, he was surrounded by warmth on all sides. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know what the warmth was, but he did so anyway, tilting his head back slightly to look at the face above his.

Ace.

Luffy smiled and snuggled closer into his brother’s chest. Ace’s warmth was nice. It was good. The only good that he had ever known. He peaked out of the safety of Ace’s body to look at his surroundings. He recognized it as the room he was in when he fell asleep, but it was unfamiliar. Everything was different now. Everything except Ace.

He sank back into Ace’s hold and the older male unconsciously curled tighter around him. As curious as he was, he knew getting up to look would be a bad idea. He wasn’t allowed to leave this room. Or at least, he didn’t think he was. Besides, Ace was still sleeping and he wasn’t going to go anywhere without Ace. Nor was he going to wake him up just to have him explain to him what everything in this strange room was – because even with his limited knowledge he could at least tell the difference between a cell and a not-cell – Ace was tired. Luffy could see the way he had been trying to stay awake when that lady was talking to him. Ace needed his sleep. He had pushed so hard because Luffy was too small and too hurt to do anything on his own.

Luffy frowned at that thought. It wasn’t fair. If only he were bigger; then he could protect Ace. Or at the very least protect himself so that Ace wouldn’t have to. He wanted to be strong. Strong enough that Ace wouldn’t have to hurt for him again. Strong enough so that Ace wouldn’t have to hurt at all. He didn’t like it when Ace was hurt.

A rustling sound snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned ever so slightly towards the sound, tensing in fear of what he would see. Only to blink when he saw blond hair, blue eyes, and a mark he still didn’t understand the meaning of.

Marco.

Luffy turned a little more to get a better look at the man. He still wasn’t really sure what to think of him. Ace was wary of him, always tense when he was around, but Marco didn’t feel bad to Luffy. Not the same way that their Masters did. Marco was…not kind exactly, but he wasn’t twisted. He could tell. He was strong. Very strong. But that strength did not mean he was good. Luffy did not really know what goodness was, but this man was not it. Nor was he bad. He was…neither. The in between.

“You’re awake then,” Marco said, drawing the boy out of his musings.

Luffy blinked up at him, startled by the sudden and direct address. And Luffy knew – even with his very limited knowledge – that’s what it was. Marco was talking _to_ him. This was different. Before, it was only Ace. Everyone else would just talk _at_ him. There was a difference. It didn’t seem like much, but it was. Marco was looking at him, not through him, and his eyes were warm. It was…odd. Luffy didn’t understand.

“Are you hungry?” Marco asked, head tilting to the side, something Luffy recognized from his own movements. Marco was curious. But that didn’t help with his understanding of the question. Of course he was hungry. He was always hungry. Always. Even when Ace gave Luffy part of his share and pretended that he wasn’t just as hungry. It was never enough.

But Luffy knew better than to admit that out loud to someone who wasn’t Ace. Admitting hunger was a weakness and weaknesses were not acceptable. Because they invited the pain. And the torment. And the cruelty. Luffy didn’t want any of that. He knew that if he answered the question, it would hurt. If he said no, he would get nothing. But if he said yes, it would be worse. So, so, so much worse. It always was. So Luffy said nothing.

Marco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re allowed to be hungry, ya know.”

Luffy blinked. How could he tell? How could he know that Luffy was starving?

“You and your brother haven’t eaten in a while,” Marco continued, his eyes never leaving Luffy’s face, “It’s around dinner time anyway, so you might as well eat something.” He paused for a moment and Luffy saw a flash of amusement cross his eyes. “And you can tell Ace he can stop pretending to be asleep.”

Luffy startled and glanced up at Ace’s face. Sure enough, Ace’s eyes slid open and he glared at Marco. Luffy stared. He had been so focused on Marco, he hadn’t felt Ace wake up. That had never happened before.

Marco chuckled. “Now, now, no need for that,” he said, “It’s time to eat. Are you getting up?”

Ace shifted and sat up, clutching Luffy to his chest. Luffy kept his eyes on Marco. He didn’t understand. Everything was so out of place. He didn’t know how he was supposed to act anymore, didn’t know what to say anymore.

“You’re allowed to be hungry,” Marco said so suddenly it made Luffy jump.

Luffy caught Marco’s eyes and stared into them long and hard. He wasn’t lying. Whatever this man might have been, he was not lying. So Luffy reached up and lightly pressed his fingertips into his brother’s tense jaw. Ace glance down at him, eyes questioning. Luffy just looked back, knowing that Ace would understand. Ace always understood.

His brother looked up to Marco and nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
